


Training Grounds

by Eisoj5



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Force-Sensitive Finn, M/M, Mood Whiplash, Occasional angst, Stormpilot, also some fluff here and there, communication is key, fighting as flirting, finn is a workaholic, jedistormpilot, mentions of torture, okay now it's OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5488439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eisoj5/pseuds/Eisoj5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe and Finn have a little downtime on the Resistance base. They, and eventually, Rey, make the most of it. </p><p>Complete on 3/13/16!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Poe

**Author's Note:**

> Oh holy crap, I ship them. So much. (Also super down with OT3!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe is tasked with finding out whether or not Finn is Force-sensitive. They get distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted 12/21/15, revised 1/4/16

*****

“You need something to do while we’re grounded," General Organa says. "And so does Finn. Get him out, get him active; whatever you want to do with him." A smile just short of teasing flickers across her lips.

Poe sneaks a sidelong glance at her for that, wondering if she's guessed, or, more likely, sensed his attraction to Finn. He has never figured out for certain how strong the Force is with her; there have been times when she knew this or that missing squadron pilot would come home safely, or gotten them all out of a tight spot just before the hammer would have dropped. But until now it's been easy to explain it away as the skill of a born and bred leader. Until now, because General Organa is ordering—no, _asking_ —Poe to deliver proof that Finn is Force-sensitive.

He'll do it, of course; anything for the General. And, he admits privately, anything to get time with Finn now that he's out of the medbay. But he still straightens his spine and asks, directly, because she has never liked it when he or anyone else prevaricates, even around questions she doesn’t want to hear, "Why not you, ma'am?"

"I'm busy, Commander," she says, stressing his rank lightly, and gives him a stern look that holds for only a heartbeat before dropping. "And he trusts you more than anyone else besides Rey."

She does not say, _and I'm the mother of the man who nearly killed him_ , but Poe reads it in her eyes. He, of course, still adores her, despite Kylo Ren's attempts to shred those feelings into dust during his time on the Finalizer. But it's an adoration long tempered by the reality of the things she has done—and the things he has done on her orders. 

So he only says, "I'll let you know what I find out, General," and goes off in search of Finn.

He finds Finn sitting under a wing of _Black One_ , skimming through a datapad with BB-8 at his side. It's a sight Poe files away as another happy new memory, free from the dark side taint of confusion and hatred and pain that Kylo Ren did his best to cloud all his other memories with.

“Hey,” Poe says, strolling over. BB-8 swivels its head up and beeps a greeting. Finn starts to push to his feet—“No, no, don’t get up,” Poe says, sitting down cross-legged beside him. “What are you and BB-8 up to?”

“I’m under orders to take a break,” Finn says. He holds up his datapad and grins. “I thought I’d start learning Binary.”

“That’s great!” Poe says. BB-8 echoes the sentiment with a cheerful chirp. “I can’t believe it wasn’t part of your training before.”

Finn shrugs. “Stormtroopers didn’t need to know what probe droids or interrogation droids found out. And maintenance droids weren’t exactly chatty.”

“Not like this one here,” Poe says, smiling affectionately at BB-8, who swivels its head back and forth between him and Finn.

“Exactly,” Finn says. “I got tired of asking ‘what did he say?’ all the time.” He groans, then, and stretches his arms over his head. “I think I’ve been sitting on the ground too long,” he mutters, twisting his upper body from side to side.

“How long have you been out here?” Poe asks, pleased that _this_ is where Finn chose to go on his break.

“Since after breakfast,” Finn replies.

“That’s hours ago! No wonder you’re stiff,” Poe says. He resists the temptation to reach over and rub Finn’s shoulders. “I know, let’s go do something else.”

“Like what?”

“Like . . .” Poe thinks quickly—Finn doesn’t do ‘breaks’ the way the Resistance does; every moment is an opportunity to learn or train or—“That’s it,” he says, out loud. “Tell me about your combat training.”

Finn frowns. “There’s not a lot to tell,” he says. “A lot of running, exercise routines, hand-to-hand combat, blaster practice, training simulations . . . it must be like Resistance fighter training for ground troops, right?”

“Maybe,” Poe says. “I know, why don’t you show me what you’ve got?” He gets up and leans down to pull Finn to his feet.

Finn takes Poe’s hand and starts to stand, but eyes him warily. “I just got out of medbay, remember?”

“Come on,” Poe says encouragingly. “It’ll be just the thing to get you back in the game.”

“What game?” Finn asks. “We’re waiting on Rey and Luke Skywalker to return. There’s no game.”

Poe smiles. “Indulge me, would you?” BB-8 chirps something like _You can do it!_

Finn shoots BB-8 an amused glare. Poe smirks—the man’s a fast learner.

Finn lets Poe lead him into the base and through its twisting halls to a training room. There’s no one else around; probably everybody agrees with Finn that there’s nothing much going on and is off taking advantage of the rare downtime someplace else. Poe has a pretty good idea as to what his squadron is up to—Snap had fairly sprinted past him in the morning, followed a minute later by Jess swearing vengeance, her hair turned a bright green. He’s still a little torn about whether he should have tripped Snap or not.

Poe unties his boots, and steps onto the floormat barefoot. He motions for Finn to do the same. Finn sheds his jacket— _Poe’s jacket_ —reluctantly, which makes Poe smile, and kicks off his boots. “What do you want me to do?” he asks, dropping into a loose fighting stance. BB-8 rolls back a few meters and tilts its head as if curious.

“Nothing too rough,” Poe answers. “Show me what you do to warm up.”

“Easy enough,” Finn agrees, and launches into a series of martial arts moves that take him across the mat and back. Halfway through, Finn glances at Poe, who is unconsciously mimicking changes in his footwork, and Poe catches the brief grin that flits across his face before he refocuses on the next step. At the end of the sequence, Finn is breathing just a little harder as he settles on the mat to stretch again.

“Anything hurt?” Poe says, dropping lightly to the mat beside him and copying the stretch.

“I feel pretty good,” Finn says, smiling.

“So hand-to-hand combat,” Poe notes. “You practice with weapons other than a blaster? I hear you’re a good shot.”

Finn shrugs. “Occasionally we practiced with riot batons.”

Poe’s expression stiffens, only for a heartbeat, but Finn notices. “What?”

“ _Charged_ riot batons?”

“Yeah, why?” Finn says.

“Didn’t that _hurt_?”

Finn shrugs again. “It taught us to get better fast. When I was six I could dodge anything the older kids tried to hit me with.”

Poe is openly aghast. “When you were _six_.”  BB-8’s beep echoes Poe’s dismay.

“The First Order’s pretty serious about weeding out the weak,” Finn says. “What about you? What did you Resistance kids practice with? Lightsabers?” He’s teasing, but Poe feels the old pang nonetheless.

“Not me,” Poe says. “I’m not Force-sensitive.”

“But you hoped you were.” Finn is getting better at reading him—Poe’s uncertain if that means Finn’s picking things up through the Force or not, though.

“Yeah. All the children of the Rebellion who grew up with stories of Luke Skywalker wanted to become Jedi Knights,” Poe says. Of course, he had also wanted to be a smuggler _and_ a politician _and_ the best pilot in the galaxy—one out of four wasn’t bad, in the end.

Finn says, as the realization slowly dawns on him, “If you _were_ Force-sensitive—if Skywalker had taken you on to be trained . . .”

“Kylo Ren would have killed me along with all of the other would-be Jedi,” Poe finishes for him. “Believe me, I know.” Then he brightens up again. “I heard _you_ wielded Luke’s lightsaber, though. Against Ren.”

“And look where that got me,” Finn says dryly. “A month in sick bay flat on my back.”

“Rey said you held your own,” Poe admonishes him. “And I saw you use it on Takodana. That was pretty amazing.”

“You saw me in all of that?” Finn asks, a grin starting to form on his face.

“Lightsaber blades are pretty visible even from the air,” Poe says, smiling. “So when Rey brings Luke back to the base, are you going to train with them?” It’s blunter than he intends, but he figures it’s worth a shot.

Finn looks at him, puzzled. “To do what?”

“Aren’t _you_ Force-sensitive?” He keeps his expression neutral, just this side of brightly curious.

“Do you have to be Force-sensitive to fight with a lightsaber?” Finn asks. “I thought it was like fighting with batons.”

“Huh.” Poe pretends to think about it for a second. “Maybe you’re just that good a fighter,” he says, putting a hand on Finn’s shoulder.

“If I was completely better, I’d pin you to the floor in a heartbeat,” Finn says. BB-8 makes a bunch of deeply amused and kind of suggestive noises at that. Poe doesn’t try to parse the details, but Finn is clearly working it out for himself, and looks both startled—and, to Poe’s delighted surprise, hopeful.

“Hey, I said nothing too rough,” Poe says, his eyes crinkling with laughter. “But maybe when you’re back to one hundred percent we can go a few rounds.”

Finn scoots a little closer to Poe on the mat. “Maybe if you take it slow, we could go for it now?” His dark eyes are warm, and he puts a hand tentatively on Poe’s knee.

Poe grins, gently puts his hands on both sides of Finn’s face, and, throwing caution and all of his previous restraint to the wind, kisses him.

When they break apart again, BB-8’s whistling encouraging noises. Finn laughs.

“What kind of training did you get about this?” Poe murmurs, wrapping his hand around the back of Finn’s neck.

“Not nearly enough,” Finn replies, grinning back. “You’ll have to teach me everything you know.” 

 

 


	2. Finn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more downtime on the base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted 12/22/15, revised 1/4/16

Finn’s settled into a companionable routine with Poe (and, by extension, BB-8) when there aren’t missions to fly, or meetings to attend, or when they’re not just both collapsed with exhaustion in their shared quarters. Poe works on his X-wing—Poe is _always_ working on his X-wing, the rest of his squadron explains to Finn, it’s a pilot thing—and Finn hangs around, reading up on something he didn’t get programmed with as a stormtrooper.

He likes learning about things from the Resistance side; it makes him feel like he’ll have something more to offer once they’re done picking his brain. He’s told them everything he can think of about the First Order: supply lines, standard shift routines, as much information as he has on the way Hux has gone about creating stormtroopers.

That last had been, surprisingly, far more difficult than the rest.

General Organa had sent all the other admirals and commanders out of the room, and when Poe had gotten up to leave, she had said “Stay.” And then they had both sat there, on opposite sides of the table, and looked at him, Poe with open kindness, and the General with the steel of a leader who knew what was coming but also knew it had to be said. As Finn had explained how he had been taken as a child and how he had been programmed over the years, Poe was visibly upset, one hand on the table clenching into a fist and his gaze firmly locked onto Finn’s as if to reassure him. Finn was pretty sure that if it hadn’t been an official, if private, briefing, there would have been at least a hug involved right then and there. General Organa’s eyes had softened, but her mouth tightened into a line.

“War is never kind to the young,” she had murmured, finally, and Finn was pretty sure she was speaking about more than just his situation. Everything he’d ever heard about the way the Jedi used to run their recruitment didn’t strike him as a whole lot different than what the First Order did to him, and thousands of kids like him.

Except for the whole Light Side/Dark Side part, of course.

And that he might be wrong about the Jedi. Finn’s still reading up on that.

Today, though, while Poe fiddles around with the wiring or something up in the cockpit of _Black One_ , Finn’s reading a historical recounting of the fall of the Old Republic, written by a New Republic historian. It’s a different perspective than the propaganda Finn’s used to, naturally. The historian traces the rise of the Emperor through to his roots with the Sith, something the First Order didn’t exactly use as a selling point when claiming the inherent superiority of the Empire.

He flips through holos of the long-dead senators who stood against Palpatine’s ascension to Emperor and pauses when he sees the name _Organa_.

“Hand me that hydrospanner,” Poe calls down from the cockpit, and without looking away from _Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan_ , Finn grabs the tool and tosses it up.

There’s a sudden intake of breath above him. “Everything okay?” he asks. He’s watched Poe zap himself or get showered with unexpected sparks at least a dozen times over the course of the past week. BB-8, tucked back in his alcove, beeps in confusion— _Poe’s fine?_

“Did you just do what I think you just did?” Poe asks.

Finn looks up. “What?”

Poe leans over the side of the cockpit and frowns at him. “You floated that spanner right into my hands. With the Force.”

“I did not,” Finn says.

“Yes, you did,” Poe insists, waving the hydrospanner at him.

“I can’t do that kind of stuff,” Finn argues.

Poe shakes his head and says, “Think back to what you were doing.” His head disappears as he resumes his previous position. “Hand me up . . . oh, a diode or something.”

Finn looks back down at his datapad and tries to replicate his actions from a moment before. “I thought I just reached out and threw it at you,” he mutters. But this time, Finn finds himself sticking his hand in Poe’s toolkit and fumbling around for a diode. “I can’t find any in here,” he calls up.

“Well, that didn’t work,” Poe says, climbing down. “I have another idea.”

“I thought we established I’m not Force-sensitive,” Finn says, shutting off his datapad and pulling himself to his feet with Poe’s proffered hand. BB-8 rolls up behind them, head swiveling back and forth curiously.

“Not really,” Poe says, throwing an arm around Finn’s shoulders as they walk across the landing pad. “If I recall, we got a little distracted from that conversation.” He grins and tweaks Finn’s ear. Finn smiles back and squeezes Poe’s fingers where they’re curled around his shoulder. He loves that Poe is so readily affectionate—it’s like nothing he’s ever experienced. Except maybe with Rey, but then he thinks sometimes that hug probably doesn’t count, since she was probably just happy that they’d come to rescue her.

He also wonders occasionally if Captain Phasma ever hugged anyone, and that usually just sends a chill down his spine. And, if he’s not careful, sometimes Finn thinks about whether General Organa or Solo hugged Kylo Ren when he was just Ben and not a murderous asshole, and that makes him horribly depressed.

Poe tugs him into the training room. Jess is there, her hair still a bright green, but she’s just getting her boots on to leave. She waves at Finn and Poe when they come in, and Finn’s pretty sure she shoots Poe a wink before she departs.

“Is she going to leave her hair like that?” Finn asks.

Poe shrugs. “I guess it was too much hassle to dye it back,” he says, going over to the lockers and rummaging around. “Hey, listen, if Snap tries to pull any pranks on you, you let me know, all right?”

Finn blinks. “ _Would_ he try to prank me?”

Poe straightens up. “Knew there had to be one around here somewhere,” he says, and tosses a blast helmet at Finn. “He might, especially now that you’re bunking with me. Put that on.”

“I don’t think I would mind being pranked all that much,” Finn says, smiling.

“Oh yeah?” Poe asks. “Well, if you decide you want to get involved in their little prank war, I have a few tricks up my sleeve they haven’t seen yet.” He grins. Then he grabs a wooden staff from the weapons rack on the wall, and seeing Finn still watching him with the blast helmet in his hands, says, “Go on, I think it’ll fit.”

Finn dutifully puts it on. Poe crosses the room and puts the staff in his hands, then flips the blast shield down on the helmet.

“Hey!” Finn says.

“Just trust me,” Poe says, and Finn imagines that he’s smirking.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asks.

“Kind of?” Poe answers. “Now . . . try to hit me.” There’s the slightest of shuffles on the mat.

“What? I’m not going to hit you,” Finn says, holding the staff still—it reminds him of Rey, a little—and turning his head in the direction he thinks Poe’s standing.

“Well, don’t try to hit me _hard_ ,” Poe says. “Just . . . try it. Um. Reach out with your feelings, or something like that.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Finn mutters, and takes a swing—not too hard, and he’d pull back if he actually made contact—and misses, of course, because this is ridiculous. “Why am I doing this, again?”

“Because I’m curious,” Poe says, and Finn spins in the direction of his voice.

“Stop laughing,” he says, and Poe protests, “I’m not!” but Finn knows he’s got that happy grin on his face, and that is both _wonderful_ and _infuriating_ at the moment.

“Focus,” Poe says.

“I am focusing!” Finn says, turning again and sweeping the staff for where he thinks Poe’s legs must be.

“That was closer,” Poe tells him, “I just barely cleared it that time. Come on, Finn, I know you can do this.”

Finn stands still for a moment, not even turning his head towards the faint swish of Poe’s footsteps. He takes a breath, and he feels— _something,_ like a light switch flips in the back of his mind, and he knows where Poe will be next. Finn switches grips on the staff, and then he lunges forward and gently jabs Poe in the ribs with the end of the staff. He hears a corresponding gasp of surprise—reverses and sweeps Poe’s feet out from under him.

Poe lands on his back with a grunt as Finn flips up the blast shield and admires his handiwork. Then he drops suddenly to straddle Poe on the floor. “Told you I could pin you,” Finn says, grinning at him.

“That’s cheating,” Poe argues, but he doesn’t protest further when Finn leans down to kiss him.


	3. Poe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Luke are back; Poe shades in a little darker, a little more thoughtful.

Rey is back sooner than anyone expected. Poe isn’t there when General Organa gets the call, but he sees her bright eyes and the faint traces of tears in the morning briefing immediately afterwards and knows, even before she speaks a word, that Luke Skywalker is coming home.

Well, inasmuch as any transitory Resistance base _can_ be called home, that is. He’s gotten more used to thinking that of D’Qar than he might admit aloud; something about the lush greenery, the humidity, the ways the air smells, even, tugs at his memories of Yavin IV. But there’s also a part of him that believes that as long as he has BB-8, his X-wing to fly, and the General calling the shots, any planet is home.

And sometimes, having Finn by his side, smiling back at him, feels like enough like flying, for all of that.

In their shared quarters, Finn positively beams when Poe brings him the news that Rey and Luke are a few short hours away.

“Did you get to talk to her?” Finn asks. Poe glimpses the file Finn was working on before he shuts off the datapad. It’s a list Finn’s been annotating of known systems on the Outer Rim; Admiral Statura had been dismayed to learn just how much space the First Order had claimed.

“I wasn’t on the call,” Poe says, apologetically, sitting down on his bunk across from Finn’s. “The General took it privately.”

Finn drops his datapad on the side table and runs a nervous hand over his hair. “Do I look all right? Should I change?”

Poe grins at him. “You always look great, Finn. Rey will just be thrilled to see you up and about again, I promise.”

Finn tugs at the hem of his jacket, and then pretends to dust off a shoulder with a flick of his fingers. “I do look pretty good in your jacket,” he says, smirking across the gap at Poe.

“ _Your_ jacket,” Poe corrects him. “Come on, let’s get some breakfast. I’m starving, and we’ve got some time to kill before she gets here.”

*****

The promised short while later, The _Falcon_ ’s ramp isn’t even on the ground before Rey is hurtling off the ship and running towards Finn, waving excitedly. Chewbacca and a hooded figure—Luke Skywalker, of course—follow her, at a more sedate pace, and are immediately swept away towards the base by General Organa.

“She’s coming for you,” Poe teases Finn, as Rey jogs towards them. “I told you she’d kick your butt halfway across the galaxy for not calling her right away when you woke up.”

Finn gives him a wide-eyed look. “I tried! Chewie said she was busy!” BB-8, circling them eagerly, whistles a dubious note at that.

Poe laughs. “Better hope the walking carpet passed on your messages, then.” He takes a hasty step aside as Rey barrels into Finn with a hug.

“ _Rey_ ,” Finn breathes, wrapping his arms around her. Poe blinks—he’s never heard quite that note in Finn’s voice before, and he’s a little—envious?

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” she says, a little muffled in Finn’s shoulder. “I meant to call you back, really I did, but I was _exhausted_ from training with Luke and by the time I would have called again we were already flying back—” She pulls away, just a bit. “Hi, Poe. Hi, BB-8.”

“Welcome back,” Poe says, smiling. BB-8 tilts its head back to look at her and chirps a greeting.

Rey turns to Finn and grins broadly at him. “You look so good!” She looks good, too—though Poe didn’t spend much time with her before she left to find Luke, he remembers the aura of grief that had hung about her. Now she radiates a confident serenity that puts him immediately in mind of General Organa, and of the moments he had spent in the presence of Luke.

The gleaming lightsaber hanging at her side only emphasizes the change, of course.

“There’s so much I want to tell you,” Finn says, putting his hand on Rey’s where it still rests on his arm.

“And I have so much to tell you too,” Rey replies, twining her fingers around Finn’s. Her grin fades into something smaller, something more intimate, as she looks up into his eyes.

Poe suddenly feels like he’s intruding, and he’s about to shuffle politely away with BB-8 when Rey glances swiftly between him and Finn and asks, “Can I steal you away from Poe for a bit?”

 _Oh, no_ , Poe thinks—there’s no hiding his feelings from a Jedi-in-training. He doesn’t quite know what to make of the knowing smile that flits across her face, though.

Finn reaches out and squeezes Poe’s hand quickly—it’s reassuring, but also disconcerting that Poe finds he wants that reassurance all of a sudden. “We’ll be back,” Finn says.

Poe smiles and nods and watches them walk away hand in hand.

BB-8 bumps up against Poe’s leg and beeps a query.

“Yeah, I’m all right,” Poe sighs. “Let’s go run that weapons diagnostic.”

*****

The task keeps him preoccupied for a good hour. But when he’s done, and there’s been no call from the General to discuss their next move, and no sign of Finn and Rey returning from wherever they’ve gone, he heads into the base, feeling slightly adrift.

Voices from the training room draw his attention—Finn and Rey talking almost over each other in their enthusiasm. Poe peeks in the doorway and sees Rey tossing her staff between her hands, squaring off with Finn.

“Show me what you’ve got,” Finn demands, planting the end of his staff on the mat and grinning, and then Rey’s launching herself at him with a flurry of blows.

It’s beautiful to watch, and Poe becomes so engrossed in watching them spar that he doesn’t notice Luke has sidled up beside him until the Jedi Master speaks. “She’s a very fast learner.”

“Master Skywalker!” Poe turns and reaches out to clasp Luke’s hand.

“I’ve been telling you to call me Luke since you were a boy,” Luke says. “It’s good to see you, Poe.”

“You too, sir; I’m surprised the General’s let you out of her sight already,” Poe says.

“She’s going to call another meeting for everyone a little later,” Luke says. He sighs quietly. “Turns out there’s only so much catching up to do.”

Poe glimpses the deep, quiet pain in his eyes, and is trying to figure out what to say to that, when a startled yell from Finn pulls Poe’s attention back to the fighters. Rey has Finn backing into the lockers, and he’s tripping over the things that spill out as he tries to escape her poking and jabbing while she giggles.

“Come on, keep your guard up,” Poe says under his breath. As if Finn hears him, he manages to block Rey’s next attempt and pushes her back towards the center of the room.

“Leia told me she asked you to find proof that Finn is Force-sensitive,” Luke says, changing the subject.

“I’ve been trying,” Poe replies ruefully, thinking back to how easily he’s been distracted from that ‘mission.’ “Finn’s had his moments, though I don’t think he really believes that he’s been able to use the Force.” He smiles. “I saw him fight with your old lightsaber—if it wasn’t for the Force guiding his hand, he would have lost one.”

Luke raises an eyebrow at him for that, and Poe grimaces. “Sorry.” Luke nods forgivingly, and turns to watch Finn and Rey returning to their starting positions to square off again.

“Leia _didn’t_ tell me you’ve fallen in love with him, though,” he says, after a moment.

Poe blinks, but recovers quickly. “Using one of your Jedi mind tricks on me, Master Skywalker?”

Luke merely tilts his head and shrugs. “Kind of hard not to notice the way you look at him. I wouldn’t pry, Poe, not into you nor anyone else.”

Poe suppresses a shiver at the memory which surfaces at that.

“Sorry,” Luke says, obviously sensing Poe’s discomfort. “Come on, they’ll be fine without us flyboys sticking our noses in. I want to see what you’ve been doing to that T-70 of yours.”

*****

Poe can’t help but smile at the way Luke runs his hand over _Black One_ and admires the engines and cannons—for all that he is a Jedi Master, he’s still a pilot at heart. BB-8 keeps up a running commentary on the changes Poe’s made, to which Artoo, who’s rolled out to join them, occasionally makes a snarky reply.

It’s thinking about Luke’s history with the Rebel Alliance, and its similarity to his own, Force aside, which prompts Poe to say, “Master Skywalker, can I ask you a question?”

Luke looks up from where he’s crouched under _Black One_ , examining the underside cannon. “Of course, Poe, what is it?”

“Did you feel it?” Poe asks. “When the Hosnian system was destroyed?”

“I have felt several great disturbances in the Force in my life,” Luke says, his eyes grave. “The destruction of the New Republic capital was like almost nothing else I have ever felt.” He edges carefully out from under Poe’s X-wing and stands up, wiping his hands on Poe’s proffered rag. “Why do you ask?”

“I wondered,” Poe says, a little evasively. “I heard the story of what it was like when Alderaan was destroyed.”

“I was untrained in the Force then,” Luke says, “or I might have felt its destruction. ‘A million voices crying out,’” he quotes, and then tilts his head appraisingly at Poe. “You’re really asking me a different question.”

“I was young when we first met,” Poe murmurs. “I dreamed of being a fighter pilot, a hero, like you. I didn’t have any sense of what that would cost.” He looks back at Luke unflinchingly. “When I destroyed Starkiller Base?”

Luke nods. “I felt that, too.”

Poe sighs. “I won’t say their deaths weigh too heavy on my conscience,” he says. “Another minute—another few seconds, maybe—and everyone I cared about would’ve died in their stead.” He does not mention the more personal losses of his squadron and Han Solo; they are terrible, private griefs that he knows Luke shares.

“It was the same for me,” Luke murmurs. He sighs, too. “The Death Star destroyed Alderaan; I destroyed the Death Star. Starkiller destroyed the Hosnian system; you destroyed the base.” He makes a sweeping gesture with his cybernetic hand. “It goes back further than that. The Emperor’s extermination of the Jedi. The Clone Wars. Millions of lives lost, all ripples in the Force. Like waves crashing against a shore, eroding it.”

“You feel it all through the Force,” Poe says, swallowing hard. “You’re the shore.”

“We are all the shore,” Luke corrects him gently. “The Force binds us _all_ together. This endless war—I don’t know how balance can ever be truly restored to the galaxy if we can never reach peace.”

“If we defeat Kylo Ren—if you train Rey—Finn—” Poe says, disconcerted by Luke’s admission.

“They are my hope,” Luke says, brightening a little. He reaches out and clasps Poe’s shoulder. “Them, and you.”

“I’m no Jedi,” Poe demurs.

“Neither is my sister,” Luke points out. He drops his hand and gives Poe another appraising glance. “Though both of you could probably stand to practice some meditation techniques.”

“I’m good, I’m calm,” Poe says.

“Uh-huh.” Luke scoops up his robe from where he had discarded it to duck under the X-wing. “You haven’t spoken to anyone about what Kylo Ren did to you. Not even Leia.” He catches Poe starting to open his mouth and says, “I’m not reading your mind, I promise.” His gaze is bleak. “I know what my nephew can do.”

Poe looks away, and then down at BB-8, who tilts its head back and gives him a worried look. “I’m all right,” he says, softly.

“I remember that about you,” Luke says. “You were always doing just fine.” He smiles sadly. “But you asked me about the deaths of millions of people, Poe. I think you need to feel the Force is still with you.”

Poe lets out a breath. “Show me what to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Poe is mostly confident, calm, and happy, but dude helped _blow up a planet_. He and Luke have this shared experience that I had to explore a little bit, even if it makes this part of the story kind of darker than the rest. (Although hmm, Nien Nunb was Lando's copilot at the second Death Star...maybe there's a conversation to be had there too...oh well, maybe that's a different story.)
> 
> Back to Rey and Finn in the next one.


	4. Finn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now for to start on the Finn/Rey side of the OT3! This happens concurrently with the previous chapter.

Sparring with Rey, Finn is surprised that he’s managed to hold his own—at least for a couple minutes here and there, he will happily admit—against her in their play-fighting. He dodges a swipe at his knees and remembers how easily she brought him down on Jakku after fighting off the scavengers who would have stolen BB-8. And although she hasn’t given Finn much in the way of details about what happened in the time between Kylo Ren taking him out and Rey getting them both to safety, he knows two things for certain: a lightsaber battle against a powerful Force-user went down; and Rey _won_.

Otherwise they’d just be another couple of smears across the space where Starkiller Base used to be. 

Finn tries not to think about that too much. 

He parries what would have been a fairly solid jab to the ribs—he thinks she’s pulling her punches, so to speak, but if they’re counting touches, he definitely wants to up his score. He ducks under her next slashing move and spins away, and that’s what does it—a flash of pain runs up his back. He gasps in surprise and drops his staff, wincing.

Rey instantly breaks off and tosses her staff aside. “I overdid it. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard,” she says, frowning worriedly, touching his arm.  

“It’s all right,” Finn reassures her, sitting down on the mat and gingerly testing a couple of stretches. They don’t ease the pain much. “I need to push myself.” He offers up a smile. “It’s been good for me to practice, I swear. And I used to get hurt a lot worse in stormtrooper training.”

That doesn’t do anything to erase Rey’s concerned look as she crouches down next to him. He makes another mental note that Resistance people don’t find that kind of comment to be very reassuring. Or normal.

“Can I try something on you? To help?” Rey asks, hovering a hand over his shoulder uncertainly.

He gives her a curious glance. “Try what?”

“Master Skywalker showed me how the Force can heal,” Rey says. “It’s kind of like meditating."

“Force healing, huh?” Finn shrugs. “Sure, Miss Jedi, give it a shot.”

“ _Miss Jedi_?” Rey raises her eyebrows and laughs a little at that. “Sit up and close your eyes,” she directs him, and scoots around behind his back.

“Don’t tickle me,” he warns her, closing his eyes and straightening up carefully.

“I wouldn’t _dream_ of it,” she replies, in a tone that suggests she’ll definitely think of it some other time, and then her hands are gently touching his back.

Finn shivers a little when her fingers carefully stroke the places where pain flares up, but as her strokes shift into a rhythm, begins to breathe more easily, and deeply, his discomfort easing moment by moment. For a few minutes they are silent, and his breathing falls in sync with Rey’s. And in the space between one heartbeat and the next, Finn senses _something_ , in his mind. It’s like that moment when he knew where Poe would be next, a sensation like a switch has flipped. He feels Rey’s presence in a way other than her physical nearness, and she is warm, and radiant, like sunlight.

“Better?” she whispers in his ear, and that snaps Finn out of it. He turns around so he’s facing her and does a couple more stretches, grinning when he realizes his back doesn’t hurt anymore.

“A lot,” he says. “That was amazing, Rey,” and then he’s looking at her, really looking, at the way she smiles wonderingly back at him, her eyes shining with pride and—something else.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” she says.

“Okay,” Finn breathes. Rey leans in to close the distance between them, putting her arms around his neck, and this time her hands are a little less gentle and a little more like she’s pulling Finn down, and—

—then she’s stopping, and frowning at him when he opens his eyes.

“What? What is it?” Finn asks.

“I—I should go,” she stutters, scrambling to her feet. Finn knows the expression on her face from when he wore it himself; she’s ready to run.

“Rey,” he says. “I don’t understand.” He gets up, holding out his hands, like he has any way to stop her from fleeing.

“You don’t know, do you,” Rey says, shaking her head. “And it’s not my place to tell.” She bites her lip and summons her staff to hand with the Force. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make things confusing between us. I’ll see you later, okay?” And then she dashes out the door before Finn can ask her anything more.

“I’m not confused,” Finn calls after her. Then he blinks, and says to the empty room, “Well, maybe I am _now_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey's making some wrong assumptions there at the end...


	5. Poe

Poe has always known he would be a pilot. His memories of sitting in his mother’s A-wing, gazing out at the stars, both endlessly distant and almost close enough to touch, remind him of that long-held desire with a certainty. And he loves nearly nothing else as much as he loves to fly, both in and out of atmosphere, from the way a planet’s gravity tugs and pushes him around in the cockpit, to the weightless soaring in space.

But he will admit—has admitted, to Finn—that once, he had also wanted to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi, like Luke Skywalker.

That memory is interrupted by Luke murmuring, “I should teach you to shield your thoughts better.”

Poe opens one eye a crack—he’s supposed to be meditating—and peers sidelong at him. Luke is sitting calmly on a rock by the lake's edge, his own eyes closed. Three fist-sized rocks float in the air next to him.

“Before we go up against Kylo Ren again, you should teach the whole blasted Resistance to shield our thoughts,” Poe says, bluntly. “It would have saved me a whole lot of grief.”

“It would have gotten you killed,” Luke replies, opening his eyes and raising an eyebrow at Poe.

“I was a dead man either way,” Poe says. “I’m only alive because of Finn.”

Luke nods slowly at that. “Your friend is a very interesting man,” he says.

“He’s a _good_ man,” Poe says, unsure how to read Luke’s tone. “He’ll make a talented Jedi.”

A smile flickers across Luke’s face. “Clouded, the future is, Poe.”

“You should see Finn fight,” Poe argues, ignoring the Jedi Master’s odd phrasing. “He picks things up incredibly quickly. He’s even learning Shyriiwook so he can understand Chewbacca.”

“I don’t doubt he’s as brilliant as you say,” Luke says. “But I cannot— _will not_ —ask anyone to train with me.” The faint smile vanishes entirely. “Not after I lost my students to Kylo Ren.”

 _Oh_ , Poe thinks. “That wasn’t your fault,” he says, almost reflexively.

“I’ve heard you’re a bad liar,” Luke says, and then holds up a hand to forestall Poe’s protest. “So I know you’re telling me the truth. Or what you believe to be true, anyway.”

“So believe me when I say Finn _will_ be a good Jedi,” Poe insists.

“I have to leave that up to him,” Luke responds. “It has to be his choice. Just as Rey made her choice.”

“Is there really another choice, when the fate of the galaxy is at stake?” Poe asks. “We _need_ more Jedi. We need you.”

“Does the Resistance really need _me_ , or just the idea of me?” Luke asks in return.

“Master Skywalker, there have got to be a hundred people waiting to see you back at base,” Poe says. Then it hits him—“Why _are_ you out here hiding with me?”

“Are _you_ hiding, Poe?” Luke finds the heart of another matter entirely, but Poe is getting better at recognizing the dodge. And while Luke might have picked up on Poe’s current romantic woes, he is hardly about to discuss them with one of his childhood heroes.

Instead, he straightens his spine and gives Luke his best disappointed-slash-expectant commander look. “ _Sir_.”

Luke lets out a long breath. “My sister has believed the Jedi to be her only hope time and again. Even when I let her down so profoundly, Leia still believes.” He pins Poe with a hard stare. “She has spread that belief to you, and so many others. I told you before; Rey is _my_ hope. Your friend Finn—even if he does not follow the path of the Jedi, he is living proof that the First Order can be swayed. _Without_ my help.” That fleeting smile flashes past again, and in it, Poe sees a glimpse of what Luke must have been like as a young man, before all of his losses. “And the Resistance has the best pilot in the galaxy on its side.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Master Skywalker,” Poe says, dryly.

“And here I was hoping you’d lend me your X-wing so I could sneak away before Leia drags me into a briefing with a bunch of star-struck hero worshippers,” Luke says, equally dry. Right on cue, almost as if he had anticipated it through the Force, Luke’s comlink chirps, and he turns away to answer it. The three rocks fall forgotten to the ground, one splashing into the lake.

“You’ve still got the one out here,” Poe says, so softly he’s almost certain it goes unheard.

*****

After the briefing—part official welcome of Master Skywalker, part initial plans for moving the base off-world, Poe heads back to his quarters, wondering where in blazes Finn has gotten to. There’s to be a celebration later; by the way Luke was talking out by the lake, Poe doesn’t think the Jedi Master’s going to put in much of an appearance, but he figures the Resistance’s star pilot should probably show up.

Preferably looking a little less like he’s gone a few rounds with a rancor. So he kicks off his boots and flops down on his bunk, hoping to catch some shut-eye. But he can’t sleep; his mind drifts back to Luke’s instructions for meditating; he closes his eyes and tries to pay attention to his breathing.

After a few minutes, Poe realizes it’s not working as well as when he had Luke guiding him earlier in the day; he’s definitely not feeling very connected to himself, or anything else, for that matter. He wonders if it’s possible to be a dam to the Force, a rock in the stream that the Force flows around and ignores.

The door slides open quietly, but with just enough sound that Poe opens his eyes to see Finn stepping in. He swings his feet over the side of the bunk and sits up.

“Hey,” Finn says.

“Hey yourself,” Poe says back, finding himself a little relieved at the intrusion. “You missed the briefing.”

“I . . . I stopped in to see Doctor Kalonia for my check up,” Finn says. “And then I went for a walk in the forest. Did you know there are some animals that aren’t scared of people here?”

“I didn’t.” Poe takes in Finn’s serious, and slightly distant, expression. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure,” Finn says, leaning forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and rests his chin on his hands. Poe looks him over; Finn’s not tensed up in pain like he was the whole first week after he woke up, but there’s some other kind of tension written across the set of his shoulders.

“I kissed Rey.”

Poe’s heart sinks like a rock. Finn doesn’t say it like he’s confessing, or guilty, or really anything except stating a plain fact.

The Force is definitely _not_ with Poe right now. But he soldiers on gamely, because if nothing else, Finn is still his friend, and says, softly and without rancor, “You love her, don’t you.”

Finn looks up. “Well, yes,” he answers, tilting his head and frowning a little.

Poe bites the inside of his lip. “All right,” he says. “I understand. I won’t get in the way.”

Finn sits up and stares at him. “You won’t _get in the way_?”

“Yeah,” Poe says, looking down and running a hand through his hair. “I mean, you and me, I like you, um, a lot—” _Understatement of the year, good job, Dameron_ , he thinks—“but I saw the way Rey looked at you, too. If you’re in love with Rey, she’s closer to your age, she’s back here and the General’s not going to want her to go anywhere as long as she’s training to be a. . . what?” He stops babbling and looks up because Finn’s put a hand on his knee.

“It’s not like that,” Finn says, giving him a puzzled smile. “What, is there some galaxy-wide rule about how many people you’re allowed to love at once?”

Poe opens his mouth, because that’s what he does in just about any situation, but apparently this time no words feel like falling out.

“Seriously, is that a rule?” Finn asks. “I mean, stormtroopers didn’t, you know, _date_ , but we got together sometimes, and it wasn’t always a one-to-one ratio.”

“You’re joking,” Poe finally manages.

“I might be,” Finn smirks. “Look, I love Rey, and I love you, Poe Dameron,” he says, matter-of-factly. “Is that good with you?”

Poe’s heart flies back up where it’s supposed to be. Maybe higher. “Of course,” he says, grinning, and he grabs Finn’s hand off of his leg and squeezes it tightly. Then he remembers. “Wait, but you said you’re not sure if everything’s okay.”

“Um, well, after we kissed, Rey sort of . . . ran away,” Finn admits.

Poe blinks in confusion. “I don’t get it. I mean, she was really happy to see you.”

“She said I didn’t know something,” Finn mutters. “And that she didn’t want it to be confusing for me.”

“Huh,” Poe says. He thinks for a minute. “Oh, _no_ ,” he says, as the realization hits him. “She’s going to be a Jedi.”

“Yeah, and it’s going to be incredible,” Finn says. “What does that have to do with this? Her and me?”

“Jedi aren’t supposed to form romantic attachments,” Poe explains hesitantly. “Or at least that’s how the old Jedi Order worked, and while I don’t know much about Master Skywalker’s philosophy, I bet that’s what Rey meant.”

“Jedi aren’t supposed to fall in love?” Finn asks.

“I think it . . . causes problems,” Poe says. Then he has a very unpleasant insight about the General, Han Solo, and the man calling himself Kylo Ren. And, by the appalled look on Finn’s face, he’s thought of it, too.

“I better go talk to Rey,” Finn says, standing up.

“Yeah,” Poe nods absently, still puzzling out the implications of love and the dark side. Finn leans down and kisses him swiftly, one hand curling around Poe’s neck, and then he’s out the door.

It’s only when Poe goes back to trying to meditate again that he puts the rest of it together for himself.

 _If Finn_ is _Force-sensitive, he’ll make the choice to train with Luke as a Jedi._

 _If Finn is a Jedi, then he won’t be allowed to be with_ anyone _, least of all some pilot._

“Blast,” Poe says, and flops backwards onto his bunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, now everyone's making wrong assumptions. Time to get more complete information. 
> 
> Also, I couldn't _not_ use the quote from ROTJ. :D
> 
> Revised 1/14/16


	6. Finn

Forty-five minutes after Finn sets off in search of Rey, he concedes defeat. She’s nowhere to be found; he’s checked every possible meeting room and hangar bay, and asked anyone who didn’t look too busy if they’ve seen her. If she’s using the Force to avoid him, she’s doing one hell of a job of it.

“Looking for Poe?” Jess calls from across the hangar. “I think he’s back in your quarters,” she offers, jogging up.

“Thanks,” Finn says, politely. “Have you seen Rey?”

“Nope,” Jess answers. “Master Skywalker’s probably got her doing some Jedi stuff before the party.” She regards him curiously. “You _are_ coming to the party, right?”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it,” Finn says.

“Good.” Jess smirks. “Some of us weren’t sure if you knew how to have any fun,” she adds.

“I have fun,” Finn protests.

“Oh yeah?” Jess folds her arms and raises an amused eyebrow. “All I see you do is go to briefings and trainings, and you’re engrossed in some datapad half the time. Give me an example of when you did something _fun_.”

“I went for a walk today,” Finn offers weakly.

“And you probably took notes on the topography and any possible wildlife threats,” Jess scoffs. “I see how you are in meetings.”

He mimics her arms-folded stance. “I’m trying to catch up on life outside the First Order.”

“That’s just it,” Jess says. “ _Life_. Isn’t Poe showing you a good time?” There’s just a hint of salaciousness in her tone.

“Poe’s been great,” Finn says, defensively. “He knows I like keeping busy.”

“I _bet_.” She waggles her eyebrows and grins.

Finn blinks at her. “Busy is—” he starts to say, but is interrupted by Snap’s voice bellowing “ _Testor!”_

“Oops, gotta go,” Jess says, and claps him on the shoulder. “See you at the party, Finn,” she calls, dashing away, out of the reach of the hangar’s lights.

Snap, shirtless, and a little damp, sprints past Finn and after her. “ _Blast you, Testor—_ hey, Finn,” Snap says, running a few steps backwards and waving something at him. It’s a bit of a blur, but Finn thinks Snap’s waving a shirt—one that is definitely way too small for him, and is a horrifically bright pink.

Finn grins and tosses off a half-salute at Snap, who disappears into the darkness after his malefactor.

Then he turns and heads back into the base. “I know how to have fun,” Finn whispers to himself. _Kissing Poe is fun._

 _Kissing Rey_ should _be fun, but maybe not if she’s a Jedi_.

Finn doesn’t head back to his quarters; mulling over the question of whether Poe has been trying to get him to do fun things, his steps take him unerringly back to the training room. “This is fun, for me,” he mutters, the words ringing defensively even in his own ears.

After rummaging around in the storage lockers, he pulls out an old Marksman-H remote like the one he found on the _Falcon_. He activates the remote and tosses it into the air, where it hovers for a moment, self-calibrating.

Finn draws his Resistance-issued blaster and tweaks the settings so it only emits light. A beep alerts him that the remote is ready, and he dodges just as it fires a stinger blast. He shoots back, firing a dozen times as he zigzags across the room, each shot hitting its target. Finn feels the barest tingle of a missed shot through his jacket as he hits the floor and rolls, the remote swooping low after him.

 _This_ is _fun_ , he thinks again, a strange exultation flowing through his mind as he keeps dodging and firing back, shot after shot hitting squarely and cleanly—

With a sudden beep, the remote stops. Breathing heavily and sweating, but thankfully still not feeling any pain, Finn grabs the remote out of the air and shuts it down. He glances up at the chrono on the wall and is surprised to see twenty minutes have passed; he hasn’t lost track of time like that before. It’s a little disconcerting, not least because if he had ever been late in the First Order it would have been grounds for discipline.

 _I’m not slipping_ , Finn tells himself firmly. _I’m enjoying myself—blast!_ _The party_.

*****

A quick dash through the refresher later, Finn heads out to the clearing, where there’s already a huge bonfire roaring, and handfuls of Resistance people are scattered around drinking and laughing. The General and her brother are surrounded by a small crowd. Even from Finn’s vantage point he can tell their smiles are weary and on the verge of being forced; this isn’t really a celebration of Luke’s return, but a much-needed morale boost for the troops.

A passing protocol droid puts a drink in Finn’s hands. He automatically takes a sip and then immediately spits it out—it’s not that he hasn’t had alcohol before, but that was brandale, and this is—

“Moonshine,” Iolo says, as he and Karé stroll up to Finn while he splutters. “Ground crew’s got a still hidden in the forest. Not that they can hide it, from the General, but old habits die hard.”

“It tastes like death,” Finn protests. “Who drinks this stuff?”

Karé grins at him. “All the pilots, for one,” she says, and that’s enough to convince Finn to give it another try—“ _Nope_ ,” he chokes out, and immediately runs off in search of a protocol droid serving water.

He’s gulping down a second cup to try to wash the taste out of his mouth when Rey sidles up behind him and says, “Hi.”

Finn turns around. Rey’s wearing a dress instead of the robes she had on earlier in the day; it’s shimmery and blue-green, and somehow Rey-demure but also General Organa-sophisticated. She catches him gawking and smiles a little. “Jess loaned this to me.”

“It’s pretty,” Finn says. He’s about to say _you’re pretty_ , but realizes that sounds silly, and takes another sip of his water instead.

Rey tilts her head at him as if she heard anyway, which she almost certainly did. “Thanks.”

“Are you going to be doing that all the time now?” Finn asks.

“What, hearing your thoughts?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugs, her eyes bright. “I’m not _trying_ to read your mind, Finn. You’re just . . . louder than everybody else.”

“What am I thinking now?”

Rey raises her eyebrows. “We’re really doing this right now?”

“Yeah,” Finn says again. “Come on, Miss Jedi, tell me what I’m thinking.” He puts a teasing note back in his voice.

She closes her eyes. “You’re . . . thinking about how you’d like to kiss me again, and how it’s different than kissing Poe—” Her eyes fly open. “ _You kissed Poe?”_

Finn sees the expression on her face and babbles hastily, “That’s as far as we’ve gone, I think he wants to take things slow since I’m still getting used to everything else around here—” Rey grabs his hand and fairly drags him away from the bonfire to the edge of the forest.

“We need to talk,” she says, planting her hands on her hips and frowning at him. Like always, they immediately try to talk over each other, and just as quickly break off.

Finn says, “I know you’re going to be—”

Rey says, “I thought you were—” She shakes her head, smiling ruefully. “You first.”

“Okay,” Finn says. “I talked to Poe about you. He told me that Jedi aren’t allowed to . . . ‘form romantic attachments,’” Finn says.

“What?” Rey blinks in confusion.

“That’s why you ran away, right? You’re going to be a Jedi, so we can’t be together?”

“Uh, _no_ ,” Rey says, indignantly. “Master Luke doesn’t believe in following that part of the old Jedi doctrine.” She stares at him. “And I didn’t _run away_ ,” she adds, fiercely.

“Then—why did you, uh, _leave_? You said you didn’t want me to be confused.” He reaches out and touches her hand. “So un-confuse me?”

“I—” Rey straightens her dress self-consciously. “I could sense Poe’s feelings for you, but I didn’t think you knew. But if you’ve been with him this whole time while I was gone—” She hesitates, and looks a little sad.

Finn flings his hands in the air. “ _Rey_. You didn’t want me to be confused about kissing you because of Poe?”

Rey furrows her brow. “Something like that.”

“I’ve been reading up on the beings in the galaxy I didn’t know about before,” Finn says. “So even though I’m still learning about Resistance mating customs, I _know_ there are a lot of other planets where it’s not weird to be in love with two people at the same time.”

Rey bursts into startled laughter. “ _Mating customs?_ ”

“Courtship rituals?” Finn offers, grinning.

“Here’s your courtship ritual,” Rey says, and then she’s kissing him like he’s the last drops of water in the desert.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finn's solo blaster practice is lifted, with some obvious changes, from _Heir to the Empire_. 
> 
> While it's kind of improbable that the Resistance is still carting around training remotes from thirty years ago, the Star Wars universe is nothing if not prone to conservation of technology!


	7. Poe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe, at the party, and after.

Poe has memories of his parents trying to tell him what it was like on Endor’s moon after the destruction of the second Death Star: the relief they had felt in finding each other alive after the final battles. The abandon with which their fellow troops got drunk on mossy Ewok beer, or kissed new lovers who had been comrades-in-arms just that morning—that one his parents had mostly tiptoed around, but the implications had been there for him to figure out. The giddy anticipation of the new day about to dawn.

As Poe grew older, and after his mother died, the stories about that night were increasingly shaded with a kind of wistfulness, as if his father longed to return to the moment when victory had been certain, and simple. When seeing Princess Leia smile, radiant and hopeful, or seeing Luke Skywalker walk out of the shadows like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, meant the beginning of a new era of freedom.

Poe sits next to the bonfire, BB-8 at his knee, and Jess next to them both, half-listening to Nien Nunb describing that very night all over again. He doesn’t think General Organa has smiled the way his father said in a very long time. And he can’t look at Luke without seeing the blanket of grief and guilt that’s settled on him. But there’s a sense of eagerness in the air regardless; the “victory kids” who grew up with the legends—and who don’t know the General's expressions like Poe does—are crowding around Luke, falling all over themselves to say how happy they are that he’s come home.

At the edge of the firelight, Poe notices Rey, wearing one of Jess’ “splurge” outfits, deftly skirt most of the main hangers-on and make her way over to where Finn is coughing on some of the ground crew’s moonshine. Rey looks ever so slightly on edge while she and Finn talk, and then she grabs his hand and pulls him into the shadows.

“Wonder what that’s all about,” Jess says, over the crackle of the bonfire, leaning over and nudging him with an elbow.

“Huh?” Poe says, very intelligently.

She nods in the direction Rey and Finn have gone. “Your boyfriend, and the scavenger girl. She cleans up pretty nicely, doesn’t she?”

“Finn’s not my boyfriend,” Poe says mechanically. BB-8 swivels its head and makes a soft noise of disbelief.

“Is he _her_ boyfriend?”

Poe groans. “ _Pava_. Finn’s love life is not one of your terrible holonovels.” He takes a long, burning swig of his moonshine, hoping she’ll leave it alone, but knowing there’s a snowball’s chance on Tatooine that’ll happen.

“No, you’re right,” Jess says, flashing a knowing smirk. “It’s _better_. Me and Snap got a pool going with Dagger and Stiletto on when Finn’s gonna sleep with one of you.”

Poe spits out his drink, narrowly avoiding catching on fire as he does so. BB-8 rolls a safe distance back. “ _What?_ ” he chokes out.

“I saw the way Rey looked at him in the medbay before she left, and when she got back, and just now,” Jess says. “That girl is in _love_.” Then she adds, waggling her eyebrows, “I mean, Finn’s already bunked in your quarters, so I thought I’d got it in the bag, but Snap said you don’t look like you’ve been getting much action.” She looks him up and down. “And I think he’s right. You look like bantha shit.”

“This is the _worst_ conversation I’ve ever had with you,” Poe groans. “Jessika. Put a stop to the betting, right now.”

Jess punches him lightly on the arm. “Poe, you didn’t care if we bet on Karé and Iolo hooking up, or Snap and what’s-their-name.”

“I’m pretty sure Karé came around and threatened to rip all the wiring out of your X-wing if you didn’t stop trying to get them together,” Poe says. “And Snap did something to your astromech, didn’t he?”

“Is that a threat?”

“You have no idea the kinds of things ex-stormtroopers are capable of,” Poe says. “Or their Jedi friends.” He slams back his drink and gets to his feet. “Or their _other_ friends, who also happen to be your commanding officer, and who’s in charge of getting you safely offworld.”

Jess smiles up at him, unfazed. “I still hope I win, _sir_ ,” she says, and raises her glass to him.

*****

Back in his quarters, Poe feels like he’s slipping. That last thing he said to Pava was a half-hearted mess, nothing like his usual, clever teasing threats. He should have said something about giving her the wrong coordinates for the jump to hyperspace, or told her the next base was going to be her mom’s house. He’d blame it on the moonshine, but Poe can damn well hold his drink, so he knows it’s not that.

Poe rubs his face tiredly and decides to blame it on a long day, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that says he should probably think about what’s really wrong. He pulls his shirt over his head, and instead of wadding it up and tossing it in the corner like he used to do, he folds it and puts it on his trunk as a reminder that he’s got to do laundry before they leave D’Qar and he ends up wearing the same flightsuit for a week.

Finn’s side of their quarters is immaculate, everything in its place, at precise, 90-degree angles. Out of curiosity, Poe had once moved Finn’s pillow an inch out of place while he was in the refresher, and when Finn had come back, he’d absently adjusted it to its rightful spot before lying down.

It’s made Poe want to see Finn really mess up the place. But Poe’s been trying to meet Finn where he is: not letting the squadron drag him into their blasted prank wars; not pushing him too hard into training after his recovery; not moving too fast with their relationship.

Not telling Finn he might be Force-sensitive.

Although Finn’s unrelenting pace—learning binary _and_ Shyriiwook _and_ the history of the Republic _and_ giving the Resistance everything he knows about the First Order, all practically at the same time—is making Poe reconsider how slowly he’s been trying to take everything else.

And, as Finn and Rey crash clumsily in through the doorway, frantically trying to shed their clothes, their hands and mouths all over each other, Poe realizes Finn has _definitely_ stepped up the pace of _everything else_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...kind of don't know what's going to happen next! Or _when_ it's going to happen next. If you're still reading this thing, thanks for sticking with it--I've made a promise to myself that I WILL finish, no matter what. 
> 
> (Oops. Despite nominally recruiting a couple of betas I went and posted this last chapter without them looking at it. Sorry about that, guys; I'll do a better job of getting feedback before the end.)


	8. Finn / Poe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day :)

Finn

Finn breaks off kissing Rey when he sees Poe’s sprawled out in bed with no shirt on.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Finn says, grinning loopily. He removes his hand from where he had been trying to tug one of Rey’s sleeves off her shoulder, folds his arms, and leans up against the doorway in what he hopes is a nonchalant manner.

Poe raises his eyebrows. “How much have you had to drink, Finn?”

“He barely drank any of that moonshine,” Rey informs him, making a face, nearly bouncing across the room to sit, cross-legged, on Finn’s bunk. She hikes her dress up around her knees. “And I don’t blame him. Tasted like licking a fuel cell.” She nods at Poe. “What about you? How much did you drink of that stuff?”

“The socially acceptable amount,” Poe says, and props himself up on his elbows on his bunk, his dark eyes thoughtful as he looks from Rey back to Finn.

“Good, then we can continue our conversation,” Finn says, stepping all the way into their quarters and letting the door slide closed behind him. He sheds his jacket and hangs it up, trying to act normal, as if he isn’t thinking about Poe’s bare chest and Rey’s slender legs.

“A conversation?” Poe asks. “Just ‘cause your tongues were involved don’t make it a _conversation_.” He smirks, and Finn can tell he’s teasing, not jealous. He also senses Poe’s curious about where this is headed, but willing to let Finn take the lead.

“We should get some things straight,” Finn says, moving to stand between the two bunks where he can look at Rey and Poe at the same time. “So there’s no more misunderstanding.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Rey says, as if she hadn’t already heard him say all this out in the forest after she kissed him. She smiles up at him encouragingly.

Finn points at Rey. “You’re going to be a Jedi, but Master Skywalker doesn’t believe in the idea that you can’t fall in love.”

Rey nods, and looks at Poe. “Love is important. It saved Darth Vader from the dark side.”

Poe tilts his head, his expression amused, but there’s something else unreadable in his eyes. “Did you two work this little skit out for my benefit?” Rey shushes him and turns her attention back up to Finn.

He points at Poe. “You don’t know Rey like I do, and Rey doesn’t know you like I do. That’s for you to learn. _I’m_ still learning about life out here in the rest of the galaxy. There’s so much I got distorted about what the Republic did in the past, what the Resistance is trying to do now. What it means to be free. But I figured out what it means to be my own man, the day I met you. _Both_ of you. Making my own decisions instead of having everything planned for me. And I—I decided on love.”

Rey bites her lip to keep from giggling, her eyes dancing. Poe is barely suppressing his own laughter. “You _are_ living in a holonovel,” he says.

Finn glares at them both in mock outrage, but only for a second, because Rey jumps up and tackles him onto Poe’s bunk. Poe barely pulls his legs up out of the way in time to keep from getting crushed. “I think it’s sweet,” Rey says, her voice muffled in Finn’s chest as he struggles to sit up with her already in his lap. She’s light in his arms, but is somehow very good at draping herself on him in ways that make it tricky to get back to even halfway vertical.

“There’s no denying that,” Poe says, stretching his legs out again as Finn manages to sit up with his back against the wall. Poe crooks one knee over Finn’s leg, and smiles at him over Rey’s head. “I’m glad you two worked it out.” Finn smiles back, content under the combined warmth of their bodies, feeling Poe finally starting to relax, and Rey—

Rey says, almost offhandedly, “Finn said something about researching mating customs.” She lifts her head to meet Poe’s surprised gaze. “And that you’re taking it slow, so that means you haven’t had sex yet, right?”

Poe is speechless—Finn thinks Poe at a loss for words _twice_ in one day must be some kind of record. He rests his chin on Poe’s knee, and offers, tentatively, hopefully, “I’m a quick study . . .”

He sees Poe come to some kind of decision half a second before he reaches out and hauls Finn—and Rey, who shrieks with laughter as she’s unbalanced—over and down on top of him. He wraps his arms as far as he can reach around both of them and gazes into Finn’s eyes. “It _is_ custom,” Poe murmurs, his expression somehow both pleased and wistful at the same time, as Finn cuddles closer, and Rey sits up to pull her dress off over her head.

*****

Poe

It’s a bit of a tangle: he’s wrapped around Finn and somehow, so is Rey. His left leg is going numb from the knee down from the weight of them both, but he doesn’t care, because he’s sucking on Finn’s lip, and Finn’s fingers are curling in his hair.

Finn moans into Poe’s mouth as Rey reaches down and slips her hands, delicate and quick, between them.

Poe glances up at her; Rey’s dark eyes are _wicked_ , and he has a quick flash of wondering where _she_ learned any of this—and then Finn rocks his hips forward, trapping Rey’s questing hand between their bodies.

“Too many clothes,” she grumbles. She’s pressed against Finn’s back, and from the movements of her fingers Poe guesses she’s trying to get Finn’s pants off, a sentiment with which he wholeheartedly agrees.

Finn reluctantly rolls onto his back, crowding Poe on the narrow bunk, and they both look up at Rey, whose hair is escaping from its ties all around her face.

She’s a lot more naked than Finn and Poe are.

Poe appreciates her for a long moment—what was it Finn said? _For you to learn_. She’s radiating confidence; there isn’t a hint of nervousness in her expression. If anything, her posture reminds him a little bit of General Organa’s royal bearing.

 _Which is sexy as hell,_ he admits very privately to himself.

“ _Well_ , come on,” she says, raising her eyebrows at them.

Poe looks at Finn and grins, and from there, it’s a race to shed everything that’s been getting in the way. Finn wins, somehow, even though he started with the most clothes still on his back. He flings his last sock on the floor and gives Poe a challenging, smoldering stare.

Poe’s grin widens as he takes in the view. “I gotta say, I like it when you get messy.”

Finn grins back. He gazes back and forth between Rey and Poe like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing, like a man hopeful the water in the desert isn’t a mirage.

“You’re in the middle,” Rey declares, and hauls Finn back down on the bunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, so it's been a while since I updated, sorry about that, and thanks for hanging in there (here?). Chapter 9 (uh...wow, this is now the longest fic I've ever written, heh) is coming soon; it, and the one after that, are almost done. Back to the usual one-POV-per-chapter format next, too. 
> 
> Thanks to meledea for reading the draft(s) over and for the encouragement!


	9. Finn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn finds out.

Rey is up before dawn; Finn registers the feel of her mouth pressed gently against his and gets his eyes open just as she’s silhouetted in the doorway, her boots dangling by their laces from one hand. “Hey,” he calls softly, not wanting to wake Poe, whose arm is draped over his hip.

She turns back, a small smile playing about her lips. “I have to go meditate. Come find me when you’re up? I want to practice something with you.”

Finn raises his eyebrows and pats the bunk invitingly.

“Jedi practice,” she clarifies, shaking her head but grinning.

“Okay,” Finn says. Rey nods and slips out of their quarters.

“ _No way,_ ” he hears Jess say in the hallway, as the door slides closed. Finn cringes, remembering what Poe had let slip sometime in the night about the squadron’s betting pool; and then, a second later, hears her shout, horrifyingly loudly, “SNAP! PAY UP!”

Behind him, Poe’s groan is muffled in the pillow. “Oh, _no._ I’m going to—”

Finn turns over to face him, and suggests, “Tape her S-foils shut? Pour kaf in her hyperdrive?”

Poe smiles and rubs his eyes sleepily. “You _have_ been reading up.”

“Do you think we got in enough practice last night?” Finn says, daringly, and is gratified when Poe’s eyes darken, and he wiggles closer to press the warm length of his body against Finn’s—but then one or both of their comlinks chirp, interrupting the moment.

He kisses Poe’s forehead and rolls away and onto his feet, reflexes ever alert, and snags his comlink from the side table. “It’s not mine,” he says.

Poe is slower to swing his feet to the floor. “Probably the General wanting to go over some last-minute logistics for shipping out tomorrow,” he says.

Finn lounges on his bunk and smirks as he watches Poe hunt around in the heap of clothes. After a couple minutes of Poe’s fruitless searching, he relents, and says, “They’re over there.” Poe looks up to where Finn’s pointing, at his pants, which are inside-out and inexplicably hanging by one leg from the edge of Poe’s console.

“Thanks, buddy,” he says, flashes a grin, and scrambles to get dressed. On his way out the door, Poe turns and frowns distractedly back at Finn. “You’ve got your own stuff to do, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Finn says, smiling. “Don’t worry about me.”

*****

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Finn says. He sights down his blaster at Rey before lowering it again.

“It’ll be fine,” Rey reassures him. “Come on, you know I can deflect it!”

“Can’t you practice against something a little less me-shaped?” Finn asks. “A droid or something that doesn’t worry about, you know, continuing to live?”

Rey frowns at him for that. “Droids _are_ alive,” she rebukes him. “And it’s boring practicing with a remote.” She ignites the lightsaber with a _snap-hiss_ and brings her arms up into a defensive posture. “You’ll be perfectly safe behind that deflector shield.” Then she gives him one of those hard looks that reminds him of when they first met on Jakku. “Which you should probably activate.”

Finn fumbles at his belt for the device. It’s an old personal deflector shield Rey found on some junked droideka in the Resistance base’s stash of Clone Wars artifacts, and when the shield pops into existence there’s definitely some fuzzing and sparking. “Should it be doing that?”

Rey grins. “I fixed it up myself, it’ll hold. Now quit stalling and shoot, already!”

Finn reluctantly brings up his blaster to aim at her again, his finger hovering over the trigger—and then he drops it. “No, I can’t shoot you—”

“What in blazes are you two _doing?_ ” a voice barks from the doorway. Finn looks over to see Poe, his eyes wide as he comes into the training room. He’s anxiously scrubbing through his hair with one hand—he looks like he still hasn’t had time to run through the refresher—as he strides towards them in what looks like full-on _Commander_ _Dameron_ mode.

Rey and Finn babble explanations over each other at him.

“We were just practicing—”

“I wanted Finn to help—”

Poe cuts them off with a dismayed shake of his head. “You have _no_ idea what could happen,” he says. “Rey, you’re good, really good, but Finn can use the Force _too_.”

Finn’s mouth drops open. “I told you, I can’t.”

Poe shakes his head again. “You _can_ ,” he insists, and nods to Rey. “Rey might not be able to tell, yet, but General Organa sensed something about you, and asked me to—to find out. And once Master Skywalker got here, he confirmed it.”

Rey closes down her lightsaber and grins, delighted. “You can come train with me and Luke!”

Finn stares at Poe. “When you asked me to show you what I could do—when you had me wear that stupid blast helmet—”

Poe nods, a sheepish expression crossing his face.

“I thought you were—” Finn breaks off. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Rey looking worried. He can’t put a name to the tight feeling in his chest. “You were testing me. Running a _simulation_ to see what I would do.” He swallows, hard. “To see if they should take me away.”

“No, Finn,” Poe starts, raising his hands.

Finn shakes his head, and pushes past Poe to escape, ignoring his and Rey’s calls for him to wait. He barely notices that Poe flinches when the still-active deflector shield brushes his arm.

*****

Outside, the commotion of ground crew and droids milling around or shuttling back and forth between transports and the base briefly breaks through Finn’s cloud of hurt and dismay. Across the landing pad, Jess and Snap are both suited up in orange and headed for their respective X-wings, prepping for their escort duties, little trace of their downtime flippancy evident in their manner. He thinks that even Hux would have to admire the precision and fervent dedication with which the Resistance gets down to the business of fighting a war.

The thought just adds to his troubled state of mind.

Finn remembers General Organa saying, pain lining her dark eyes, “War is never kind to the young.” He wonders now if she had meant it less as acknowledgement of his past life, and more as a statement of regret about what was to come. If she had already ordered Poe to test him to find out if he should be trained as a Jedi.

_Not trained. Reconditioned._

_I was taken from my family. I was raised to do one thing._

Finn shakes his head abruptly, willing away the memory. _No._ _I made a choice_. _I_ won’t _be an extension of someone else’s will_.

He walks quickly away from the base, trying to keep out of sight. Anxious to avoid anyone he knows, Finn heads deep into the forest; farther than he’s ever gone before, not really knowing where he’s going. His thoughts are filled with turmoil: how could the General do this to him?

How could _Poe_?

Finn ends up sitting on the lakeshore, hurling rocks into the water as if the splashes, rippling back almost to his boots, will wash away his anger—dread—whatever this burning numbness is in his chest.  

“Why didn’t he just tell me?” he wonders out loud, cocking his arm to throw another rock into the lake.

“From what I hear, Poe practically _did_ ,” comes a voice from behind him. Finn whips around, and hastily drops the rock when he sees Luke Skywalker step out onto the shore.

“Master Skywalker,” Finn says, scrambling to his feet. “I didn’t hear you back there.”

Skywalker shrugs. “Unlike your Commander Dameron, I’m quite capable of being subtle,” he says dryly. He bends down, picks up a rock, and turns it over in his hands—his artificial one now covered by a black glove, Finn notices. “What are you doing out here, Finn?”

“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” Finn replies warily, feeling the sudden urge to run again.  

“I’ve been through a few base moves in my time,” Skywalker says. “It gets so you can tell when you’re just getting in the way of Leia’s timetable. I’m retired from transport escorting, anyway.” He deftly skips his rock out across the lake, and doesn’t look at Finn.

“Maybe Poe did hint around a lot,” Finn says slowly, feeling his frustration subside a little as Skywalker picks out another skipping stone. He watches the rock fly out over the water, and counts eight skips before it sinks with a faint _plop_. “But I thought it was just his wishful thinking. Like how he wanted to be a Jedi when he was a kid, he wanted that for me.”

“After everything Poe’s seen— _you’ve_ seen, and learned about the Force—is that what you want?” Skywalker asks gently.

“How _can_ I want that?” Finn bursts out. “The First Order took me from my family when I was just a kid. I don’t even remember who they were. The Jedi did the same thing, didn’t they? Making warriors out of children.” He takes a shaky breath, realizing he’s been unconsciously clenching his fists at his sides. “I don’t want to be a part of anything that takes kids away from people who love them.”

“Even if it would give you the power to fight Kylo Ren? The First Order?” Skywalker has picked up another rock and is levitating it a few centimeters above his left palm. He turns to face Finn. “The power to protect the people you love?”

His voice is still calm, quiet, but the words pierce Finn’s heart.

_Protect Poe. Protect Rey._

Finn thinks about the people Skywalker’s loved and tried to protect; about the way he said the name _Kylo Ren_ so carefully; as if, instead of the rock, he’s holding out the past in his hand.

He shakes his head, fiercely. “I’ll find another way.” Then he stares at Skywalker, whose eyes are serious, and a little sad, and realizes—“You really _didn’t_ come out here to force me to join you.”

“No,” Skywalker agrees. “I know Rey told you I don’t follow all the teachings of the old Jedi Order.” Finn feels his face grow warm as he nods, and tries not to think about Poe’s mouth or Rey’s soft skin against his . . .

Skywalker raises an amused eyebrow, obviously sensing something, and Finn wants to throw himself in the lake.

“Besides _that_ ,” Skywalker continues, trying and failing to hide a smile, “I don’t believe that Force-sensitive children must be taken from their families to train as Jedi. Not in the Academy I tried to build, and certainly not anymore.” He turns his gaze out to the lake, but Finn has a feeling he’s not actually seeing the water in front of them. “I was ‘too old’ to train, myself,” he says. “My masters would have said the same about Rey.”

“But you’re—she’s—” Finn is astonished. “You’re both _Jedi_.”

“My masters would have found a lot of fault in the way I tried to do things,” Skywalker says. “Maybe they would have been right.” He lets the rock slip between his fingers to splash at the edge of the water. “But you made a _choice_ , Finn, the day you broke Poe out of that cell, to be your own man. It would be wrong for me to take that away from you.”

Hearing the echo of his own thoughts, Finn furrows his brow and regards Skywalker for a long moment. Skywalker isn’t offering _anything_ ; it’s not like Solo hinting around at giving Rey a job, or the General giving Poe a mission. It’s entirely up to Finn to make his own path.

He sits down on the shore again and sighs. Skywalker makes a gesture, asking for permission, and Finn nods—Skywalker joins him on the ground, folding his legs into what looks like an uncomfortable position, but he still looks as calm as ever. The silence that falls between them is punctured only by the occasional muted whine of a speeder back at base, and the gentle rippling of the lake against the rocks.

“I got it wrong,” Finn says, eventually. “Meeting Poe, the General, being here, I could see all the ways the Resistance is different from the First Order. But the Jedi—everything I read, I couldn’t see how they were different. Bringing order to the galaxy—I watched Hux’s propaganda every day, you know?”

He glances sideways at Skywalker, who only looks back at him and still says nothing. “The Jedi—you—I didn’t think any of it was real. Even though I knew about, um, Kylo Ren, the stories about what he could do, his lightsaber—” Skywalker’s brow furrows a bit at that.

“I never saw anyone use the Force until Jakku,” Finn continues. “I saw— _him_ —kill with that lightsaber—” he definitely catches Skywalker wincing, then, but there’s no stopping the flood of words now. “He froze Poe. He stopped a blaster bolt in midair.” He meets Skywalker’s gaze. “The first time I saw someone use the Force, I was _terrified._ ”

“And yet you rescued Poe out from under Kylo Ren’s nose, and fought him with my old lightsaber,” Skywalker says.

“I lost,” Finn points out, feeling the ghost of a tingling in his shoulder and back.

Skywalker shrugs. “The Force was stronger with Rey, perhaps, but it was also with you, or you wouldn’t have simply _lost_. Wielding my lightsaber, though.” Something like an amused smile crosses his face. “You were reckless.”

“I was just running from one thing to another,” Finn says, demurring. He pauses, and makes a decision. He looks up earnestly into Skywalker’s face. “But being here, with Poe, I feel like I’m finally catching up. I’m learning everything I can on my own. But . . . I haven’t learned enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“Enough to _help_ ,” Finn says.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been sitting on this chapter for most of the last couple weeks and finally feel like I've whipped it into shape. Two chapters posted in two days? Yeah, that's...not gonna happen again for a while, but getting this up--and getting all your lovely feedback--is prompting me to keep plugging away at chapter 10 and onward!


	10. Poe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey talk.

After Finn storms out, Rey stares at Poe, frowning, and asks, “Why is Finn so upset?”

“I—oh, _blast_ ,” Poe says. He kicks the bench, angry with himself. “Stupid, pretending like it was just flirting and messing around,” he mutters.

“ _What_ was?”

He spins around and looks at her. She’s got an expression on her face like General Organa gets sometimes when one of the pilots is trying to explain why they did something more rash than passionate: exasperated and impatient for a better explanation.

“Are you sure you’re not a Skywalker?” Poe says, attempting to forestall her further questions.

“Yes,” Rey says, narrowing her eyes at him. “You were trying to find out if he’s Force-sensitive? For the General? Why would that upset Finn?” Her mind brushes against his, and though it’s the gentlest of touches, Poe’s breath catches in his throat.

“Don’t,” he snaps out, taking a step back and bringing his hands up as if to ward her off.

Rey’s expression changes, lightning-fast. “I’m sorry,” she blurts. “I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s all right,” he lies, quickly, and smiles, a little crookedly, at her.

Her frown doesn’t dissipate; if anything, the little crease in her forehead deepens. “It’s not.” She moves as if she wants to reach out for his hand, then stops. For all the intimacy of the night before, without Finn between them, connecting them, she’s hesitant.

“You’re still learning how to handle your, um, powers.” Poe tries to make the excuses for her. “How to use them responsibly. It’s okay.”

Rey just looks at him. “Finn told me where he found you, on the _Finalizer_ ,” she says.

His heart skips a beat. “So?”

“So I know what Kylo Ren _really_ did to you.” Rey’s eyes are somehow both soft and unyielding at the same time. “Because he did it to me.”

Poe rubs at his face with the heel of one hand, and sits down on the bench. He feels very tired, all of a sudden. “ _Rey._ ”

“We have to feel the things we feel,” she tells him. It sounds like the sort of thing Luke would say; probably _has_ said, to her. “You’ve been shutting out your feelings.”

“I thought you were asking me about what I did to make Finn storm off,” Poe says, gazing up at her and forcing his tone light.

Rey’s not easily deferred. “You’re keeping secrets,” she says. “Things you should share.” She sits next to him, not quite as close as Finn would, but a companionable distance apart.

Poe looks at her. She’s changed some from the first time they met; still self-assured and eager—last night confirmed that—but there’s wisdom behind her words that wasn’t there before. And having seen each other in Finn’s arms . . . he sighs. _No secrets._ _Right_.

“I didn’t want to put anything more on him,” he admits. “It’s hard enough he’s trying to find out where he fits, without me scaring him with Jedi talk.”

“Jedi talk,” she repeats, and then frowns at him again. “Scaring _Finn_? He’s the bravest man I’ve ever met.”

If Rey was anyone else, Poe would pretend to be affronted that she didn’t think _him_ the bravest, but her gaze is still leveled at him in such a way that he doesn’t think she’d appreciate the levity. Instead, he says, again, “I didn’t want to overwhelm him.”

“Maybe _you_ were afraid,” Rey says gently.

Poe discovers he’s been interlacing and twisting his fingers tightly, and tries to relax his hands in his lap. “Maybe I was. Maybe I was trying to keep it like playing around, so neither of us would think too much about what happened.”

“Because of Kylo Ren.”

Poe nods. “Finn, you should definitely learn how to use the Force, it’s great, you’ll love it—oh, sorry, your only knowledge of the Force comes from your former, very evil, boss, who almost tore my mind apart and tried to kill you?”

“Oh,” Rey says. “I see.” She tilts her head, considering.

Poe throws her a sideways glance. “Kylo Ren did—” he waves his hand in a vague mimicry of the gesture he remembers—“to you?”

Rey nods. He mentally compares their experiences, and frowns. “Finn said he didn’t rescue you,” he says. “You were already free by the time he got there. _How?_ I was a _mess_ after Ren got through with me. If Finn hadn’t come along when he did—” He breaks off at the slightly embarrassed, slightly horrified look in Rey’s eyes. “What?”

“You had Finn,” she says, shaking it off. “I had the Force.” Then she reaches over to take Poe’s hand, and smiles. “I guess we both had Finn.”

“After today, _you_ have Finn,” Poe mutters.

“You just need to talk to him,” Rey says. “Tell him what you told me. He’ll understand.” Then she laughs, startling Poe. “I didn’t get to see a lot of holonovels, but this _is_ starting to feel like one.”

He smiles a little at that. “Where do you think he went?”

Rey doesn’t answer right away; her eyes go a little unfocused, and Poe realizes she’s using the Force to find him. “Finn’s by the lake,” she says. “With Luke.” Her gaze comes back to him, and she suddenly looks worried—“That’s not scary, is it?”

“No,” he hastily reassures her. “It’s kind of comforting, actually.” On an impulse, he lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles. “Thanks.”

“Ugh, get a room,” comes a teasing and entirely too familiar voice from the doorway, and they both look up to see Snap leaning around the frame to smirk at them.

Poe scrabbles around with his free hand to find something to throw at his captain, who feigns ducking behind his hands. “Get spaced,” Poe orders.

“Hi, Rey,” Snap says instead, ignoring Poe. He steps into the room, and then he really does have to duck as Rey uses the Force to lob a boot at his head. “Hey! All right, all right, sorry, but you know your, ah, _group_ _activities_ last night did lose me a few dozen credits.”

“Can’t say I’m too sorry about that,” Poe says, trying to smirk like he usually would in situations like these.

“Where is Finn, anyway?” Snap looks around as he comes over to them. “I’d have thought he’d be attached to you. One of you? Both?”

Poe’s face falls, and he feels Rey squeeze his hand. “Out,” she answers for him.

“Oh.” Snap rubs the back of his neck, evidently quite confused, but doesn’t pry, though he eyes their still-linked hands curiously. “Um, some of the techs want to talk to you about updating _Black One_ ’s navcomputer. BB-8’s kicking up a fuss about it and insisted I come get you.”

“Blast,” Poe mutters. “I’m on my way.” He gets up, relinquishing Rey’s hand, and looks down at her. “We’ll talk more later?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Maybe you should talk to Finn first?”

“'Talk’ isn’t a very good code word for sex,” Snap says. Poe punches him on the shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, I actually foresee an end to this thing in the near-ish future! Although I have also started thinking about what a sequel would focus on...


	11. Finn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn uses the Force and talks to Poe.

“You want to _help_ ,” Skywalker says.

Finn thinks he sounds skeptical, and says, “Yeah.” He gambles—“If me or Rey had known how to use the Force, maybe we could’ve stopped Kylo Ren before—”

“No.” Skywalker’s voice reminds Finn of the dying embers of a banked fire, coarse and empty as ash.

“No?”

“There is nothing you, or Rey, could have done to prevent Han’s death.” Skywalker says heavily.

Finn shakes his head. “I don’t believe that.”

“You believe in the Force, don’t you?” Skywalker asks.

“Yeah, now I do, but I don’t know how any of it _works_ , never mind whether it controls fate,” Finn says.

“What exactly did you learn about the Force in the First Order?” Skywalker begins to pace back and forth along the shoreline. 

Finn shrugs. “Just stories, holonovel stuff. There was one that got passed around about Darth Vader using the Force to kill his rivals, like the Emperor.” He throws a curious glance at Skywalker. “But when I got here, I read that it was _you_ who defeated them both. And—” he’s _still_ not sure if this is right—“that Vader was your father?”

Skywalker nods, and it’s all Finn can do not to breathe a stunned _wow_ ; he’s probably got it written all over his face, anyway. “It took Leia a long time to come around to the truth, and by then it was too late; that story about me defeating Vader and the Emperor was spreading like stranglevine on the HoloNet and there was little I, or anyone else, could do to correct it. Besides, telling the galaxy that I turned my father back from the dark side? Who would have believed there was still good in him?”

“Oh,” Finn says, and then, “ _Oh._ ” But he hesitates—the set of Skywalker’s shoulders tells him this isn’t the time to pursue the messed-up history of the Skywalker family—especially its latest wayward, definitely evil, son—any further. He takes another tack: “I probably should study up on something that’s not a holonovel.”

Skywalker turns around, looking more weary than before, but smiles faintly. “I’ll make sure you get the right datacards on the Jedi. Philosophy, our history, research . . .”

“I’ll read all of it,” Finn promises.

“For now, though, I’ll bet you’re itching to learn something practical.” Skywalker says.

In his expression Finn sees a desire for distraction, and obliges. “ _Anything_.”

“I’ve heard you’re a good shot,” Skywalker notes. “You got a blaster on you?” Finn nods, and taps his belt holster, then inhales in surprise as a half-dozen rocks suddenly float up from the ground. “Blaster practice,” Skywalker says. “But close your eyes.”

“Poe made me do something like this,” Finn says, obediently squeezing his eyes shut. He draws his blaster and stands ready to fire.

Skywalkers huffs a quiet laugh. “Did he, now. Well, don’t go as easy on the rocks as you would Commander Dameron,” he says, his voice suddenly coming from beside Finn instead of from the direction of the lake. “Feel the Force flowing through you—between you and me, the rocks, the trees, the lake. It connects us all.” He goes on for a bit more, describing what Finn should try to feel, how he should reach out—his voice starts to blur together, almost hypnotically.

Finn’s mostly back to fighting form after his long stint in medbay, but even so, his arm is beginning to tire from aiming. Nonetheless, he tries to focus on Skywalker’s words, and slowly he starts to sense— _everything_.

Fish in the lake.

The wind in the trees.

Luke’s powerful presence next to him.

And, if he stretches out further: _Poe and Rey, warm and familiar in the back of his mind. Poe’s distracted, but Finn can feel his worry. Rey—alert to his mental presence, and pleased._

“Now,” Skywalker murmurs.

Finn brings his awareness back to the moment, _knows_ where the floating rocks are, and fires off a handful of shots. Sharp, sizzling sounds tell him he’s hit more than he missed. “Not bad,” Skywalker says, and Finn opens his eyes. Dust and smashed stone fragments are raining down between him and the lake, and only one rock is left.

Finn deliberately looks away from the target, over at Skywalker, concentrates, and fires one more last bolt; he’s rewarded with another satisfying shatter.

He grins.

“Don’t get cocky,” Skywalker says, but Finn can tell he’s pleased.

*****

_Finn?_

The voice in his mind is soft, but in the quiet by the lake it’s enough to break his concentration, and Finn falls off the rock he’s been meditating on before he can catch himself.

“Rey?” He sits up and brushes himself off.

On the other side of Finn’s rock, Skywalker’s eyes snap open. Finn’s not sure if the Jedi’s been going through meditation exercises, too, or if he’s just been napping.

“Well, _she’s_ certainly coming along quickly,” Skywalker observes.

“I heard her,” Finn says. “In my head!”

“You and me both, and probably Leia, and any other undiscovered Force-sensitives on the base,” Skywalker says dryly, standing up and offering Finn a hand to get to his feet. “But it’s a good sign that you can hear her so easily.”

“Do you talk to other people in their heads a lot?” Finn asks. “Seems like it’s pretty useful.”

Skywalker gives him a _look_ , and Finn remembers that he’s spent the better part of a decade—at least—living like a hermit. “I didn’t make a habit of it, no,” he says. “Leia could hear me, of course, but with . . . my students it was often better to practice shielding one’s thoughts than projecting them.”

“So I should learn how to do both,” Finn says, decisively.

“Not today,” Skywalker says, turning to walk back towards the base. “You’ve started down the path, Finn, but right now, your friends are calling.”

_Friends_? Finn thinks, trailing after him. He only heard Rey. But when they emerge from the forest, Finn sees Poe sitting cross-legged in the grass at edge of the landing pad, BB-8 nestled at his side.

Waiting for Finn.

He hesitates, and turns to Skywalker. “I want to learn more, soon.”

“How about you and Rey come find me after you get something to eat?” Skywalker asks, that faint smile on his face again.

“Okay,” Finn says. “And—thank you, Master Skywalker. For giving me a choice.”

“You’re your own man,” Skywalker says. “You always have been.” He claps Finn gently on the shoulder and walks away, somehow managing to avoid drawing the attention of the Resistance members scurrying about the landing pad.

Finn takes a deep breath, and marches over to where Poe had scrambled to his feet but remained a polite distance away. He crosses his arms in unconscious imitation of the General at briefings. “You should have told me,” he says.

Poe nods. “You’re right,” he replies, simply.

“I could’ve read the right things,” Finn says. “I would’ve been _ready_ instead of trying to play catch-up with Skywalker—”

Poe’s face lights up. “You’re going to do it—you’re going to be a Jedi like Rey!”

“Yeah,” Finn says, and then Poe’s wrapping his arms around him and pressing a delighted kiss to his mouth. BB-8 chirps something happy at their feet.

“I’m still mad at you for not telling me what was going on,” Finn growls, as Poe releases him. But he sits in the grass next to BB-8 and tugs Poe back down beside him. He doesn’t let go of Poe’s hand.

“I know,” Poe says. “And I _am_ sorry. After everything you’ve been through, you should have gotten a say in it from the beginning.” He twists his hand around in Finn’s grasp to run a thumb lightly across his knuckles.

“Why _didn’t_ you tell me?” Finn asks.

Poe looks down at where their hands are intertwined. “I was afraid,” he says. “I was scared I’d overwhelm you with everything you were trying to learn and do. And if I told you what you could be, you’d have all these questions I couldn’t answer. That I didn’t _want_ to answer, because I’m still trying to figure it out for myself, you know? What it means to have the Force at your back, in a galaxy full of death and destruction.”

BB-8 makes a small, sad noise. “And love,” Finn insists, a little surprised at the tenor of Poe’s words.

Poe nods. “But you and I both know where we’ve been and where this war might take us.”

“Who we’re up against,” Finn says.

“Yeah. And while I’ve had couple of bad bosses before, talking about yours—that wasn’t a place anyone wanted to go.”

“Technically, I reported to Captain Phasma,” Finn says, startling a laugh out of Poe. “ _I_ want to talk about Kylo Ren,” he says, fiercely. “But if you don’t want to, I understand. I’ll talk to Rey.”

Poe just looks at him. “Finn, do you know what Kylo Ren did to her? To me?”

The sight of Poe’s bruised and bloodied face is one Finn doesn’t think he’ll ever forget. He bites his lip, and squeezes Poe’s hand. “He tortured you. I know what standard operating procedures were for captured Resistance fighters.” He’s filed a couple of reports on that for the General; she had only nodded, as if she knew it all already. It had been more than a little unsettling.

“There wasn’t anything _standard_ about what Kylo Ren did,” Poe says. “He used the Force. He tore up my mind to find out about BB-8.” Hearing his name, BB-8 moans softly and butts up against Poe’s shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay, buddy. Finn got us both home safe, right?” Poe reassures the droid.

“It’s not okay,” Finn says, feeling sick. “Does—does the General know?”

“What, that her son turned into a monster with no idea what the word _boundaries_ means? Yeah, I think she knows.” Poe glances down and rakes his fingers through a tuft of grass. “Just—promise me you’ll learn how to keep him out of your head, all right?”

“I’ll learn everything Skywalker can teach me,” Finn swears. He reaches up and gently turns Poe’s face towards him. “I’ll never let Kylo Ren hurt anyone I love again.”

Poe eyes him. “So you’re _not_ still mad at me?”

“Oh, I’m mad,” Finn says, and grins. He plants a hand on Poe’s chest and shoves him over. Poe goes down on his back into the grass, one hand flailing to take Finn down with him. “BB-8, zap him,” Finn yelps, and falls into Poe’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went and saw SW:TFA again Friday afternoon, and came home to read about JJ Abrams saying there will be gay characters in future installments, so STORMPILOT FTW :D :D :D


	12. Poe

Poe is actually very surprised when BB-8 _does_ zap him, none too gently, in the leg. “Hey!”

BB-8 gives him an innocent look.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Poe says, affronted, but settles back into the grass and wraps his arms around Finn. BB-8 beeps the verbal equivalent of rolling its eyes.

“Maybe this way you’ll remember not to keep things from me,” Finn teases.

Poe stiffens. “Please tell me that’s not a First Order approach to forgetfulness,” he says, pressing his nose into Finn’s hair. It smells like his own shampoo, and he remembers, belatedly, that he never did get a chance to run through the refresher.

“Nah, if your memory was really bad, you just got sent to reconditioning,” Finn mumbles, his breath warm against Poe’s neck. “Psytechs would fix you right up.”

Poe pulls back enough to look into Finn’s eyes. “What,” he says flatly.

“What? I told the General about this stuff.”

“Yeah, but— _Finn_ , did you ever get sent to reconditioning?” Poe realizes he’s gripping Finn’s arm hard enough to hurt, and eases up a little.

“No,” Finn says. “I was good enough that they were going to make me an officer.”

“I didn’t know that,” Poe says. He bites his lip, and tries not to think of all the other ways they could have met, at the end of each other’s blasters.

Finn smiles, thankfully unaware of the depressing things running through Poe’s head. “When I’m a Jedi, will I outrank you?”

“I think the highest rank Luke ever got was Commander,” Poe says, idly running his fingers over the back of Finn’s neck, raising goosebumps. “Why, you want to start giving me orders?” He finds he kind of likes that idea.

“Just one,” Finn says.

Poe raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? Name it, _sir_.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Poe is only too happy to follow orders.

*****

A short while later, realizing they’re both ravenously hungry—“Half a ration bar on my way to the briefing,” Poe says, and Finn just mutters something about kaf being more than enough, when BB-8 does the astromech equivalent of maternally tapping its foot—Poe brushes bits of grass out of his hair and off of Finn’s jacket, and they dutifully head in for a proper meal.

In the canteen, Rey beckons them to join her. Poe is fascinated by the array of foodstuff on her plate; there are assorted alien things he’d only ever been dared to try—by Jess, usually.

“Rodian eel?” he says. “Really?” He makes a face.

BB-8 trills disgusted agreement, and Finn laughs. “BB-8, how would you even know what it tastes like?”

“Try it,” Rey mumbles around whatever’s in her mouth, and holds a piece up in her fingers for Finn to take.

Finn dips his head to slurp the eel out of her fingers, making her smile, and making Poe _deeply_ interested in getting them both back into his bed. As soon as possible.

Finn swallows, grimaces, and says, reaching for water, “Who eats this?”

“Rodians, probably,” Poe says.

“So you two worked it out?” Rey asks, in between bites of flatbread. “Everything out in the open, no more secrets?” Poe slings an arm around Finn’s shoulders and nods at her.

“Yeah,” Finn says. He grins. “I’m going to train with you.”

Rey makes a delighted noise and throws her arms around him. “I’m so glad,” she says.

“You’ve got a month’s head start on me, though,” Finn observes, but Poe notices his eyes are sparkling with anticipation.

“I can wait for you to catch up,” Rey tells him. “Luke says the hardest thing to learn is patience, but I know how to wait.”

“I’ll _pass_ you,” Finn teases her. “I’ll be throwing lightning bolts before you know it.”

Poe squeezes his shoulder. “Uh, that’s not—”

“Not how the Force works?” Finn looks a little crestfallen.

“ _I_ don’t know how to do that,” Rey says. “I don’t think Luke does, either.”

“I saw it in a holonovel,” Finn says, by way of explanation, and then, dismay in his eyes—“about the Emperor.” He frowns over at Poe. “I read he was really a Sith lord?”

“Oh,” Poe says, rapidly reassembling fragments of half-remembered history lessons in his mind. “Yeah, I guess that _is_ how the Force works. For power-hungry, evil bastards hell-bent on controlling the galaxy.”

Finn and Rey give him matching looks of alarm. “Guess we better learn how to block lightning,” Rey mutters to Finn, who nods back at her very seriously.

Then he leans over and scoops up something else off her plate. “What’s this?” he asks Poe, holding out a jam-smeared finger, as Rey protests, “Get your own!”

Poe glances up at them through his eyelashes as he ducks his head to lick Finn’s finger clean. Finn just smiles, as if— _as if he’s doing this on purpose_.

He pretends to look up thoughtfully, swirling his tongue around—“Sullustan jam,” he pronounces. “Nien Nunb makes sure the kitchen’s always got it in stock.”

Rey gazes mournfully at her plate. “You ate the last of mine,” she says.

“I’ll get you some more,” Poe says, pushing back from the table and standing up, trying not to think very loudly about licking jam off of either of them. From the intrigued look Rey gives him, he’s failing.

*****

When he gets back, with jam _on toast_ , _they all have things to do, dammit—_ Finn’s moved around to sit next to Rey, and they keep giving each other sidelong, apparently meaningful glances. And smirking.

Silently.  

“Am I missing something?” Poe asks, thinking that they probably need to set some ground rules about using Jedi powers around regular people.

One of the slow smiles Poe loves spreads across Finn’s face, and he nods at something past Poe’s shoulder. “I think you’re going to want to see this,” he says, and Poe turns around dutifully.

Behind him, Jess and Snap have come in, and are sitting with some of the ground crew. Jess laughs at something Snap says, and reaches for her mug—which scoots away from her fingers. “What the—” Jess makes another grab for the drink and it twitches out of her grasp again.

She catches on quick, Poe has to give her that; Jess looks over at their table, and exaggeratedly rolls her eyes at him—and that’s when the mug shoots off the table, whips past Poe, and smacks into Finn’s outstretched hand, splashing them all with lukewarm kaf. Rey splutters and BB-8 makes a noise of protest. Poe wipes off his face with the back of his hand and shakes droplets from his hair.

“Oops,” Finn says.

“A little more control, I think,” Luke says, passing their table with his own drink clasped in his hand. He raises it in salute, though, as he walks away, Artoo trailing him and chirping in amusement.

Rey looks at Finn and bursts into giggles. Poe shakes his head, grinning, and calls over to Jess, “I warned you.”

She smirks. “Your Jedi friends don’t know what they’ve gotten themselves into, Dameron,” she calls back.

“Hey, you’re the ones betting on us—if anything, you started it,” Poe points out, stressing the “us” very lightly. He props one foot on the edge of the table, and rocks his chair back on two legs towards her to give her a mock-accusatory glare.

“Oh, very mature,” Jess says, and Snap does a terrible job of hiding a grin behind his own mug. “This better not end with an imaginary Ewok as my co-pilot, is all I’m saying.” She shakes a finger in Poe’s direction balefully.

“If I know my history, and I do _,_ ” Poe says, “ _this_ ends with somebody naked in front of the whole squadron.” He grins widely as Snap sprays a mouthful of kaf all over the table.

A hand taps his boot, and he looks around to see Rey and Finn once again wearing identical wide-eyed expressions—“Don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Poe says, waving a hand dismissively. BB-8's chirp is skeptical

“Sure,” Rey echoes, uncertainly.

Poe turns his grin towards her. He lets the legs of his chair drop back down to the floor and snags the last ribene off her plate, watching her and Finn’s faces as he deliberately, and slowly, licks the sauce off.

Rey doesn’t bat an eye, and only says, “Those are Luke’s favorite.”

Finn smirks at Poe’s bemused reaction and says to Rey, “Speaking of Master Skywalker, I’m supposed to come with you this afternoon.”

“We can go now,” Rey says, wrapping the toast Poe brought in a napkin and stuffing it into her belt pouch. She hesitates for a fraction of a second, and then pushes her not-yet empty plate towards Poe. “Eel’s not that bad,” she says, a corner of her mouth twitching up.

Poe accepts the plate with a nod. Finn smiles at him, and then the two Jedi apprentices walk away, their hands not quite touching.

Jess comes up beside him, spinning a chair around to straddle it backwards. “Off to save the galaxy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Poe says, looking after them thoughtfully.

She rests her chin on the back of the chair. “Well, some of us regular, non-Jedi heroes, need to go over scouting reports from the Unknown Regions,” she says. “Not as exciting as learning to fight with a lightsaber, or whatever, but someone’s gotta do it.”

He eyes her around the edge of his mug. “Did you ever want to?”

“What, be a Jedi?” Jess shrugs. “All of us did, who knew about Luke when we were kids.”

“Would you want it, now? Knowing what you know about—everything?” He waves his fork around.

Jess frowns. “No. You?”

Poe shakes his head, and drains the rest of his kaf. “I mean, sure, there’ve been times it would be handy to know what was coming next in a fight—” _never mind the lives that could’ve been saved_ , he thinks—“but I’ve got enough responsibilities as it is without having to balance the Force.” He throws her a look. “Hey, the galaxy needs us regular, non-Jedi people to save it too, right?”

She grins back at him. “Us big damn heroes, you mean.”

“Damn straight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, so much fluff. XD
> 
> One more to go!


	13. Finn

Finn is envious of the easy way Rey relaxes into meditating, her breathing going slow and quiet seconds after she closes her eyes. For Finn, although he reminds himself he’s gotten in touch with the Force successfully before, reaching out to it now is less like the feeling of a switch being flipped, and more like when officers would slap the lightplate in cadet barracks and scream at them to wake up. It’s chaotic, feeling not only Rey and Skywalker’s presences beside him, but also everyone else—just outside this room, in the comm room, out on the landing pad . . .

He instinctively looks for Poe again, trying to anchor himself, and the sense of Poe is like a stream rippling over rocks, all swift bright motion. He’s flying _Black One_ , not far away, happy.

“Hmm,” Skywalker murmurs, and that snaps Finn out of it.

“What?” He opens his eyes and frowns.

“Your ability to focus is remarkable,” Skywalker says, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Perhaps now would be a good time to talk about shielding your thoughts.”

“I’m game,” Finn says. Rey nods, too.

“How do you think you kept Kylo Ren out of your head, Rey?” Skywalker asks.

She presses her lips together briefly. “I just—copied what he was doing. I pushed back. I got in _his_ head.”

Finn frowns. “Are you going to try that on me?”

“Only if you allow it for our practice,” Skywalker says. “But the idea is to learn how to _prevent_ it.” He sits down on the mat between them, assuming the same folded-up position Finn’s been trying to get comfortable with. “Finn, how fast can you field-strip an F-11D blaster rifle?”

“Forty-five seconds,” Finn replies, unconsciously stiffening at the thought of his previous life. “Fastest in my unit. I came close to beating Academy record a couple of times. Why?”

“Think of all the steps it takes to strip a rifle and reassemble it, in detail,” Skywalker says. He holds up a hand when Finn opens his mouth. “You don’t have to tell me. Just run through the process in your mind. And when you’ve done it once, do it again.”

“So anyone trying to read your thoughts, all they get is how to take apart a blaster rifle,” Rey observes.

“I used to count sabacc hands, myself.” Skywalker looks at Rey. “Do you have something in mind?”

Rey tilts her head, considering. “The _Falcon_ ,” she says. “Its specs and modifications.” A mixture of emotions crosses Skywalker’s face at that.

“Not a bad idea, except if someone actually wants that information from you,” Finn points out, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his elbows.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Rey admits. Then she smiles, but it’s more sardonic and sad than anything else. “The specs on the first ship I ever flew, then. A Ghtroc 690 freighter.”

“Nice,” Skywalker says. “I flew a 720, once. It was a shame I had to destroy it.”

“What did you think of its—” Rey starts, her eyes sparkling—Finn recognizes the preamble to a long, pilot-technical conversation, and interrupts.

“Are there other ways we can keep, uh, _people_ from reading our thoughts?” Rey throws a glance at him, and he shrugs. “Sorry. I got my fill of flyboy talk from Poe and BB-8 before you came back.”

“I’ll show you my notebook on the 690 sometime,” she says to Skywalker.

He nods, and turns to Finn. “There is another way, but it can be . . . dangerous for Jedi to pursue, because it involves concentrating your most basic emotions to throw others off balance.”

“Basic emotions,” Finn repeats, sitting up straight. “Like what? Anger? Fear?”

“Among others, yes,” Skywalker says. His eyes crinkle at the corners like he’s trying not to laugh. “Lust, for example.”

Finn very carefully does not look across the mat at Rey.

“But you must be careful with these emotions,” Skywalker continues hastily, “because they can easily lead you down a path to the dark side. Feel them, understand them, certainly, but beware where these feelings may take you.” He pauses, and flashes a smirk that hints at what he must have been like as a young man. “And _please,_ if you’re going to practice this, ah, technique—do it when I’m not in the room. Or on the base. Maybe when I’m not on the same planet as you two.”

“Yes, Master Luke,” Rey says, her expression a fascinating combination of _dismayed_ and _intrigued_. She shoots Finn a look, and he doesn’t need the Force to know what she’s thinking. He, too, is very interested in putting what they’ve learned into practice.

 _Later_ , he mouths, and she smiles.

*****

As it turns out, Finn is far too exhausted _later_ from training to do much more than blink.

He lies next to Poe, twining their fingers together, and shifts around uncomfortably on their bedrolls—nearly everything on the base that wasn’t nailed down has been packed off onto the fleet’s supply ships, ready to move out first thing in the morning—it’s marginally less comfortable than a stormtrooper’s bunk, and his body is starting to get stiff. Rey had offered for them to bunk on the _Falcon_ , but he’d declined; it was sure to be cramped enough with her, Skywalker, and Chewie without adding two more bodies (and BB-8) to the mix.

Poe picks up on Finn’s discomfort and motions for him to turn onto his side. “Excited to get off-world?” he says, starting to massage Finn’s shoulders and back. “Ready to take the fight to the First Order?”

Finn nods into his pillow. “I never imagined anything like this could ever happen to me,” he says, a little muffled.

“ _You_ made it happen,” Poe pauses his kneading. “You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met. You’re going to make a great Jedi.” His voice is warm.

Finn snorts a laugh. “You’re just saying that because I saved your life.”

“Yeah, well,” Poe says, and resumes rubbing his shoulders. “Look at all these things that you’ve done. About the only thing you _can’t_ do is fly.”

“About that,” Finn says, thoughtfully. “Think you’d want to teach me?”

Poe buries his face in the crook of Finn’s neck and laughs, his hair tickling Finn’s ear. “Between you and Rey, I’m going to be out of a job.”

“Never,” Finn tells him loyally. “Best pilot in the Resistance.”

“Remember than when you’re riding high in the _Falcon_ tomorrow, huh?” Poe says.

“How could I forget with you showing off as our escort?” Finn rolls onto his back and laughs at the half-proud, half-insulted look on Poe’s face, before craning up to kiss it away.

*****

Finn gives their quarters a last once-over in the morning, even though there’s nothing left but bare walls and some scuff marks on the floor where the beds and console used to be. Poe leans up against the doorframe, waiting, BB-8 whirring softly beside him.

Finn turns and looks at them.

“When I graduated, and when I transferred to the _Finalizer_ , it wasn’t like this,” he says. “I didn’t feel like I was leaving something behind.”

“That’s ‘cause that wasn’t like home,” Poe says, and BB-8 dips its head in a nod. Finn presses his lips together and wonders how many planets Poe’s seen dwindling through the transparisteel of his X-wing’s canopy. He thinks about Rey, and how much she wanted to get back to Jakku, and he sort of gets it, now. He’s only been on D’Qar a little more than a month, but it’s where he found his footing. Where he started to understand how he fit into the galaxy.

“Do you go back? To Yavin IV?” Finn asks.

Poe shrugs. “Haven’t had time.” His eyes are thoughtful. “Maybe after the war’s over, I’ll take you there.”

“I’d like that,” Finn says.

“It’s as hot as Jakku,” Poe teases. “And humid.”

“As long as there’s water, I’m happy,” Finn says, moving up close to him. “No more desert planets for me.”

Poe affects a worried expression. “General Organa changed the location of the base to Tatooine,” he says.

“You are _such_ a bad liar.” Finn smirks.

“Am _not_ ,” Poe protests, gesturing for him to go past, into the corridor. BB-8 burbles agreement with Finn. “Oh, don’t _you_ start.”

As they head out, Finn hears someone calling his name, and turns to see General Organa stepping out of a briefing room.

“Can I speak with you a moment, please?” The General’s voice isn’t loud, nor particularly commanding, but the regal note arrests his attention.

Finn touches Poe’s shoulder and says, “Go on without me, I’ll catch up.” Poe tosses off a salute and a smile to the General—Finn wonders if he already knows what she wants—and continues out to the landing pad. BB-8 swivels and warbles curiously, but follows Poe without further comment.

“Ma’am?” Finn draws himself up to stand at attention.

“At ease.” She shakes her head, the shadow of a smile in her eyes. “I thought all that time you spend with Poe and his squadrons would’ve broken you of that habit with me.”

Finn relaxes a fraction. “No, ma’am.” He grins. “Poe is always _very_ respectful of you.”

“I’ll bet,” Organa says, dryly. She gestures for him to follow her. “I’m sorry I haven’t had more time to speak with you,” she says, as they walk down the corridor. It’s not an area Finn’s spent much time wandering around; he mentally calls up a map of the base and determines they’re headed towards her office.

“Your work is so important,” Finn replies, shaking his head, “and I’m just—“

Organa stops and puts a hand on his arm. “You’re not _just_ anything, Finn. I’d have thought my brother, or at least Poe, would have made _that_ clear.” Her eyes are ablaze.

He looks down at her, and though he has been in briefings and seen how she commands, Finn suddenly understands _why_ Poe—and everyone else—is in awe of the General. How Han Solo could have fallen in love with her.

“Yes, ma’am,” is all he manages to say.

“Well, come on then,” she says, and though she is so much shorter than him, Finn has to hurry to keep pace.

Inside her office, which is almost completely packed up save for a desk and a chair, Organa clasps her hands behind her back and moves to stand behind the desk. “I want to apologize for not being forthright about what I asked Poe to do, after you woke up.”

Finn blinks. “I’ve forgiven him,” he says, then adds, “But I wouldn’t presume to question your orders, ma’am.”

She purses her lips. “Why not?”

“You’re the _General_ ,” Finn frowns. “Your decisions should be final.” He hesitates, seeing her brow furrow at that, then presses on—“I understand, though. Why you didn’t want to come right out with what you wanted.”

“Do you?”

He focuses on the sense of her—she’s a little apprehensive, but steeled for whatever he might say.

“Your son,” Finn says. “Your father. Falling to the dark side. Your—” He can’t quite bring himself to say Solo’s name.  “You didn’t want to . . . lose anyone else.”

Organa acknowledges him with a nod. “You’ve learned about my family curse,” she says; despite the pain he knows she must feel, her tone is almost light. 

“I won’t fail you,” Finn says. He fights down the urge to reach out and grab her hands so she _knows_. “I _won’t_.”

Her eyes are bright. “I believe you.” She touches a control on her desk, and from within a hidden spot inside it, she removes a slim metal cylinder.

She holds it out to him.

“I want you to have my lightsaber,” Organa says.

Finn’s mouth falls open.

“I built it when Luke thought I might have time to learn how to be a Jedi, after the Galactic Concordance was signed.” She smiles crookedly at him. “I didn’t.”

Finn remembers the way Skywalker’s lightsaber hummed in his grasp, how it had felt _right_ even as he struggled to fend off Kylo Ren. _Her_ _son_.

He squeezes his hands together behind his back to stop them from shaking. “Why me?” he asks.

“Because you’ve never known anything except how to fight, but you know, better than anyone, the cost of winning,” she says. “Because you’re going to be a symbol, Finn, whether you like it or not, but _I_ know a hero when I see one.”

Finn looks her in the eye. _Women always find out the truth_. “I was going to run away,” he says, simply.

“There was a time when I didn’t want to be a princess,” Organa tells him. “And yet, here we are.” She presses the lightsaber hilt toward him. “Go ahead, take it.” When he still doesn’t move to do so, she adds, “A Jedi needs a weapon.”

At that, Finn reaches out and lifts it from her grasp. He wraps his fingers around the hilt—it’s weighted a little differently than her brother’s, but he instinctively knows how he’ll adjust for that, now that he’s had a little training. “Thank you, ma’am,” Finn says. He ignites it with a _snap-hiss_ and admires its blue-white glow. “I promise I’ll learn to be worthy of this gift.”

Organa’s smile is as dazzling as the lightsaber’s blade. “You already are, Finn.”

Finn closes down her lightsaber. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you,” he starts, but she shakes her head gently, cutting him off.

“Whatever the Force has in store for you is more than enough,” Organa says. Then she gives him a decisive little nod and adds, “You’d better get going. Rey and Poe are waiting.”

*****

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! Here we are. _This_ is now the longest fic I've ever finished and posted, and it's been a lot of fun writing it (and making friends when I got people to look at it!) 
> 
> Some notes:  
> -Wookieepedia is _the best._  
>  -I actually wrote Finn & Leia's conversation several weeks ago, and between then and now I read the TFA novelization, which includes Finn wondering, "Was he worthy of this gift?" when he receives Luke's lightsaber from Maz. So that was a lovely thing to discover in canon.  
> -I used finishing this fic as impetus to actually follow through on my New Year's Resolution to write for an hour every day, haha. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to meledea for cheerleading along the way with these last few chapters, and thanks to all of you who subscribed and bookmarked and left kudos and comments; knowing that there are people looking at this thing has been an amazing feeling. 
> 
> THANK YOU. <3
> 
> I'm eisoj5 on tumblr if you want to yell about jedistormpilot and Force-sensitive Finn with me!!


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